


Reign

by thats_my_bulma



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Happy Ending, Mostly bc that four letter word escapes his lips, My First Fanfic, OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2018-08-24 14:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 93,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8375509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thats_my_bulma/pseuds/thats_my_bulma
Summary: Bulma and Vegeta play very different roles in this alternate universe. Bulma has become a space faring mechanic from a destroyed planet, and Vegeta has inherited the role as king of all Saiyans...despite the odds though, the two manage to find each other in space.





	1. Spacefaring

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE: The entire story has been edited, added to and updated as of 12-18-17. That's not to say there won't still be some flaws, but it's surely better than the original. 
> 
> *This is my first attempt at fan fiction. I don't claim to be a professional writer at all, I'm just doing this for my own entertainment and hope you all enjoy it as well! 
> 
> *If you want to skip the backstory and get to the Vegebul smut/romance I suggest starting at chapter 6 ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma's world is turned upside down as the Earth is destroyed. She escapes in her ship to a refugee planet to start her new life. (Dragon Ball AU, this will turn into a Vegebul romance in the future)

 

Bulma craned her head up to the sky, nothing but clouds and a vast blue expanse- but she just couldn’t fight the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach. She sighed and got back into her convertible, driving up the meandering road with her brilliant teal braid flowing in the wind.

At sixteen she was already a college graduate, an engineer by title and lifestyle (she did grow up with _the_ leading engineering scientist in the world), however she did not lack the naivety of many girls her age. She had built a radar to detect the mystical and much sought after dragon balls of legend, but with all of its power she currently had only one wish- to find a _really cute_ boyfriend.

Bulma finally pulled up to a narrow path leading to a overgrown and dilapidated house. She put the car in park and looked at the radar in the passenger seat, _this_ _was the place_ …but it really gave her the _creeps_. She stepped out of the car and proceeded cautiously around the property, finally looking through the dusty windows into the sparsely furnished house. Someone had lived here once, but it sure hadn’t been recently.

Bulma grabbed the door handle and tried it gingerly, and to her surprise the door swung open, the smell of stale, acrid air invading her lungs. She coughed, holding her hand up to her mouth and walked inside, clutching the radar for dear life. The floorboards groaned with each step she took, and dust dance, shimmering in the sunlight that filtered in through a hole in the ceiling.

The girl entered what she thought must have been a bedroom at one time, noticing only a pallet and a broken nightstand. She smiled to herself as she walked over to it and opened the only functional drawer.

“Bingo!” Bulma exclaimed as she pulled out the brilliant yellow orb, marveling at it a moment before cramming it into her backpack. It was the first of seven, and the easiest one of the lot to locate. The other six would take days of travel to find, and would likely take multiple forms of transportation to get to them. But, that _was_ all a part of the adventure.  

She took a deep breath and made her way to the front door, not wanting to linger in the ramshackle place any longer than she had to. Just as she passed under the hole in the ceiling, Bulma noticed a shadow come over; she looked up out of curiosity and saw… _a ship?_ _A battleship_. She ran outside into the yard and stared up at the unfathomably large vessel as it made its way in the direction of her city.

“Oh my god...” She trailed, realizing that the uneasy feeling that had gripped her all morning had been for good reason. The girl stood slack jawed and paralyzed with fear, the rumors were true… _the World Trade Organization had arrived._

Bulma grabbed her cell phone out of her backpack and immediately called her father. After a few rings and choice words from Bulma, Dr. Briefs picked up with a distressed greeting that was highly unusual for him.

“Hey daddy, what’s the news?” her voice wavered as she brought up a question that she really didn’t need to ask.

“Well, its not good my dear. Seems the WTO has came to Earth…” He trailed as the sound of the clamoring of his coworkers overtook the silence. “Bulma you need to take your ship to the refugee planet we talked about before. The coordinates are already programmed into the…” He trailed again as she heard a deafening BOOM from the other end.

“Bulma, I love yo…” another BOOM and the line had been dropped. Bulma stared at the phone in shock. She started breathing fast and shallow, feeling as is she would faint right there on the grass. _Surely this was a nightmare, a terrible dream…_

Another explosion far off in the distance brought her to her senses. She grabbed the capsule from her waist pack and rolled it around in her shaking hands, she never dreamed she would ever have to use this one… _how utterly surreal._

More explosions blasted off in the distance, over the hills far ahead of her. _She had time, she would be ok_ …just throw the capsule and be off.  Bulma pressed the button on the small tube and threw it to the overgrown grass before her, and what took only seconds seemed like hours as she watched the smoke rising from behind the hills. A brilliant POP brought her to her senses and the bean shaped spaceship appeared, glimmering steel in the sunlight with an emblazoned CAPSULE CORP logo painted across the side.

Bulma ran up to the side of the ship, hurriedly grabbing the handle to let the entrance drop and open the hatch. She was already running up the stairs before they had fully descended and slid in through the door before it had finished opening. She punched the CLOSE button on the inside and threw her backpack down to the floor in haste.

At the pilots station she hurriedly started the opening sequence, the program seeming to take a thousand years to start up and get the engines running properly. She looked out the window and saw that the smoke in the distance had turned into an apocalyptic black mass of clouds. _Damn._

“Startup Complete.” The robot voice said calmly, but it was still loud enough to startle Bulma in her fearful state.

“Set the previously programmed course. Leave immediately.” She called out to the computer, the engines now fully humming with power. She took a deep breath and ran to the pilots seat, buckling herself in and preparing for a takeoff she was still not accustomed to, even after several space flights in the years past.

The ship began to vibrate and hover off the ground, the engine rotated and blasted with energy that propelled the craft with astonishing speed, reaching the outer atmosphere in what felt like seconds. Bulma stared down as the ship ascended and held her breath. The earth was being assaulted in her city as well as one to the north that she could see, visible energy from explosions were scattering at an alarming rate…what _horrible_ power these creatures had, power to destroy every living being on earth in a matter of hours.

Bulma watched in horror as the earth grew smaller and smaller out of her sight. Her stomach rolled and she felt as if she would throw up, but instead she stared glassy eyed as the planet she grew up on disappeared from her sight forever.

_

After the ship gained cruising speed, Bulma unbuckled her belt and got up on wobbly legs. She paced over to the bedroom on the far side of the vessel and fell back into the bed with a long sigh. She knew that everything she needed was on the ship, that wasn’t a problem- her father had been very adamant on stocking the stupid thing with everything down to a cappuccino maker. _My dad…_

Bulma immediately sat up and looked around the room for a satellite radiophone, if there wasn’t one nearby it would be on the storage shelf just outside the room. She jumped up and rummaged through the bedroom closet without any luck, but found it on the storage shelf near the kitchen. The girl placed the blocky phone on the floor and sat in front of it cross legged, tuning to her father's signal, waiting for a response. She stared at the blinking red light on the top of the radiophone, counting every time it blinked. _5, 10, 15 rings…_

She let it ring for what felt like ages until she finally slammed the phone on its receiver. _Maybe its not working, maybe they are too busy to notice…_ she knew she could tell herself that lie as much as she wanted, but in the back of her mind she would never believe it.

Bulma returned to her bed and wept, and she cried like she had never done so before in her life. She punched the bed, threw pillows and screamed to the top of her lungs. All of the fuss was not enough to quell her anger, her desperate sadness and sense of loss. She fell asleep sometime after, and the ship continued to barrel through space at an unfathomable pace.

-

Days turned into weeks as Bulma tried to keep busy. She tinkered with small projects made from spare parts she found on the ship. She played pointless games on her phone, _tried_ doing yoga, ate a ridiculous amount of junk food- but mostly she slept or mourned over pictures of her family and friends. She had given up on contacting any of them when she had gotten no answer after twelve days. It was just too hard to keep trying to reach out when all that she was greeted with was an eerie, white noise. 

Bulma would occasionally check the map on the control panel to see how far it was to the refugee planet, but some days she just forgot to even look. She was gripped by a deep depression, and by the time she was within a day’s reach of the planet she had slept for over fourteen hours. A loud chime rang through the ship, startling her awake at once. It was the pleasant voice of the computer, calm and happy as ever: “Prepare for docking in one day. This is your reminder that there are twenty four hours left until arrival at Planet 5L07 Ok’Sanii.”

The girl stared at the ceiling, tangled up in her bed sheets with a sigh. Finally _…but finally what? What can I expect?_ Those thoughts plagued her as she tried to go back to sleep. She found no sense in getting up after the alarm, twenty-four hours on the damned ship would be another eternity in her eyes.

-

Bulma eventually fell into a fitful doze for several hours, until she decided to roll out of the bed to shower and prepare for the landing. Her father had talked about this place in passing at some of the few family dinners they shared, but she didn’t remember much- other than that it was where she was supposed to go if something catastrophic occurred and the earth was destroyed.

The only specific that stood out in her mind was that there would be several alien species there, and she had wondered idly if there would be any cute alien boys. _How utterly moronic…_ She stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, thinking about how stupid she had been to even care about something so damn silly. But was that the old Bulma? Had she changed so much in a month?

After packing her backpack with essentials she went and sat in the pilots chair, settling in with a yawn. She stared at her visage in the dark glass ahead, her hair pulled up in a cute ponytail with a bowm and she at this little bit of normality before keeping her eye on the map; the little red marker labeled 5L07 slowly, _ever_ so slowly getting closer and _closer_.

-

In the hours before arrival on the refugee planet, Bulma had dozed off in the pilots seat. A chime woke her up to let her know that she had one hour until arrival, and she opened her eyes and glared out the window. She knew it was still too far away to see anything- but she stared into the black and starry distance anyhow. Her stomach turned over into knots and she gulped, feeling quite nervous about this place, especially since she had _no idea_ what to expect.

The time went by considerably faster than she had imagined, and she was startled when the chime let her know it was fifteen minutes until arrival; it all occurred in what felt like the blink of an eye. The engines began their deceleration sequence, and Bulma tapped her fingers on the armrest anxiously as 5L07 slowly came into view, a dusty brown marble with a few dark seas spattered across its face.

The ship slowed even more as the computer communicated with the docking port. Numbers and code were hurled across the screen as they connected and Bulma tried to decipher the feed, but she finally gave up as the surface of the planet came into clearer view. She could start to see what looked like a city below, with mountains dotting the landscape all around. 

As she descended, the city became an expanse, the vessel pulled away from the core and set its course to the spaceport just outside of the metropolis. The ship started to hover, the engines powering down for the first time in a month, and finally the vessel rested as gentle as a feather on the concrete below. Bulma unbuckled her belt hastily and stood up as the chime from the computer let her know that she had, in fact, landed.

“You are authorized from this port to depart CAPSULE BL-MA, thank you trusting CAPSULE CORP.”

Bulma took a deep breath and grabbed her backpack as she approached the door, her heart rabbiting out of her chest as she gingerly pressed the button to open the hatch. The pressure lock made a sucking sound as it opened and the stairs descended to allow her exit. Bulma shielded her eyes from the glaring sun, glad that she had wore long sleeves since the air was rather chilly as it swirled into the ship.

“ _Welcome_ to planet Ok’Sanii, Planet 5L07 of the known universe sector 7, this was once a refugee planet but I regret to inform you that is no longer the case.” A gruff voice addressed her in the universal language, and she squinted to find its location. A dark silhouette of a very large, horned figure loomed in front of her at the bottom of the stairs. She lifted her eyebrows and began to speak when he interrupted.

“Are you a single passenger?”

“Y-yes”

“We will allow you one day to make plans to depart this planet. A job board is posted inside, _if_ you have a trade.” The alien scoffed, a large blue skinned man in a navy colored uniform, He had two intimidating black horns jutting out each side of his head and a face that only a mother could love. Bulma stared at him in surprise, he was just so _gigantic._

“If you have any questions you can take them inside. Good day.” He affirmed, walking away from Bulma when it finally dawned on her what he had just told her. _One day? Was this a joke?  
_

“Hey, what did you say? I can only stay here one day?! I just flew in this damn thing for a month, buddy!” She called after him in anger as she made her way down the stairs. He continued walking, infuriating her when he made no attempt to answer. Bulma soon noticed the spiraling buildings and complex structures, and she shook head in awe at the many ships going to and fro in the eerie orange sky. She stood on the last stair with her backpack strap in her hand, staring in awe at the vast port in front of her, soon forgetting about the alien altogether.

-

Bulma finally made her way inside the massive spaceport, marveling at the variety of people and creatures chattering and making their way to their destinations, minding their own business as if it was a day like any other. She guessed to them, it really was _just another day._

She mulled around the food area, which smelled absolutely delectable after a month of frozen and dehydrated meals, and her stomach growled as she sat at a table, pulling out her universal language handbook for reference. She knew enough of the  _UL_ to make her way around, but the word she was specifically stuck on was _job,_ since apparently it was that or back to space alone. And _that_ wasn’t an option.

After a few minutes a large, woolly alien with three eyes and a mouth full of teeth approached her. She grimaced as the thing held out a tray and pointed to the surprisingly tasty looking food on it.

“You eatin'? Just 2 credits for fresh Tamhol on a stick.”

“I haven’t got any credits…” Bulma trailed uneasily, bending the  _UL_ book in her hands.

“You got anythin' ta trade?” It asked unfazed, pointing to her bag.

“Maybe, what do you want?” She murmured, rummaging around in the side pocket- grabbing some coins, a radio, _a dragon ball_ …

She pulled the dragon ball out but was disappointed to see it was just a smooth and perfectly round stone. She grimaced and sat the rock ball on the table, trying to dig out anything else that she thought might be of value to the alien.

“I’ll take that.” It said pointing to the round stone and handing Bulma a stick of roasted meat with some sort of vegetables skewered on it. She handed the stone over and gladly scarfed down the first fresh food she had eaten in a month, and she was more than surprised that the unsavory looking food was actually quite tasty, indeed.

-

Bulma made her way through the port to the 'trade and employment' section, which was surprisingly empty aside from a few skinny aliens that passed her going the opposite direction. She found a vacant desk, a few scattered chairs of different sizes, and a large board spattered with ads and various propaganda posters slamming the WTO.

She glanced at the wall for several minutes, reading over many ads in broken universal language as well as some in totally alien writing. She ran her hands over the board, grimacing as most of the ads she was finding were for brute labor, transporting goods, and handling crates. She finally spied something promising, and she reached up far above her head and took down a scrap that caught her eye. The ad simply stated that a ' _mechanic was needed for a ship at dock 7L, must be under 3 meters tall'_. She inhaled, folding the paper and putting it in her pocket. _Here goes nothing_ …

-

After wandering through the port for nearly a half an hour, Bulma finally came upon dock 7L. She inspected the bean shaped ship and immediately noted it was incredibly similar to the one that Capsule Corporation had found abandoned on Earth. It was from that spaceship that her father had reverse engineered, making earth a space faring planet- for better, or _worse_.

“Can I help you?”

“Huh, oh yeah.” Bulma replied sheepishly as she approached the incredibly tall alien that walked out from behind the ship. The spectacled man was wearing a thick bundled scarf and flowing clothes of earthen tone. He was bald save for his antennae, his skin color green, his ears large and pointed, and she could see his teeth were dangerously sharp.

“Yes, I was replying to the ad you posted.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” The alien grimaced, and Bulma made an incredulous face at him, throwing a hand to her hip.

“It absolutely is not! I’ll have you know I am an accomplished engineer and mechanic, daughter of Earth’s most brilliant…”

“I don’t care whose daughter you are, I'm looking for a good mechanic to get this ship moving and in tip top shape so I can get my freight out.” He interrupted condescendingly. She removed her hand from her hip and gestured to the ship.

“What’s it doing? Let me take a look.”

-

Bulma tinkered in a compartment on the ship, one of which she suspected the problem to lay. She ran her fingers through the wiring and found a simple loose wire which was likely causing the shuddering and power loss. She reconnected it, but also checked the entire engine area for damage or maintenance issues.

She grabbed a wrench from her pack and tightened up many bolts, finding a few cracks in some of the pipes that needed immediate repair. The tall green alien watched her suspiciously at first, but he was pleasantly surprised at the fact that this puny female creature was able to find her way around the vessel with ease.

“Do you have your own tools? Do you have a ship?” He asked her as she wiped her hands off on a cloth.

“Absolutely, although to be honest I never expected to need them today. And yes, I have a ship.” She smiled sadly.

“ _Well._ Get your tools. Do what you want with your ship, I’ll give you three hours to get your things in order or I’m out. If you wanna' work for me, be here before then.” He glared down at her, putting one large hand against the side of his spacecraft.

“I’ll see you then!” Bulma smiled, turning her back to him and making her way back to her Capsule ship with a wave.

-

Bulma found what she needed, put it all in a bag and encapsulated it. Her father had added a good variety of tools on the ship, but a few that she really needed were missing. She bit her lower lip and looked around the vessel- she would have to sell the ship to make up for the missing tools, since she really had nothing else of any real value in the situation she had found herself in.

She stuffed several outfits and toiletries into a suitcase, encapsulated it as well and then sat in the middle of the floor miserably. She held her head in her hands and cried silently, never imagining it would be this hard to sell the ship her father had built just for her.

-

At this point, having a way off of the planet as well as a job was much more important than her ship, even if it had been a gift from her father, and It didn't take her long to find a buyer in the market area. She knew for certain she was getting ripped off, but she had made enough to buy her tools with some credits to spare- all in just enough time to reach dock 7L before departure. 

“Well, well, you showed up.” The alien gave her a half smile and Bulma returned it.

“Of course. I was lucky though, you know. Your ship is so similar to ours, well…the one I had.”

“So you sold it?” He asked, and she nodded.

“Ah yeah, I needed a few tools...Also, what was your name, I never got it?”

“Scargo, and since your gonna' be working for me I might as well know yours.”

“Bulma Briefs.”

“I see. Well, its time to depart, _Bulma_.” Scargo motioned for her to follow and walked to the bottom of the ship. “ _Piccolo_ ” he muttered, and the door to the hatch lowered at once.

 


	2. A Prince Who Bows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenage Vegeta is humiliated by Frieza for the last time, and an unlikely Saiyan helps him to escape his captor...but to what avail?

Vegeta sat sprawled out on the ground as the fires raged around him. Embers from the smoke danced in front of his face, making his dark eyes gleam violently. With his acute Saiyan senses he could smell the blood from his victims even miles away… _lots of it_. It was a heady, metallic odor that made his own blood boil with excitement, pure chaos running through his veins as he grinned abhorrently at his companions.

“Good work boys, I think we’ve done enough for tonight. ” He breathed deeply, rubbing some of his own blood off his cheek with his dirtied white glove. Raditz stood next to him with his arms crossed, scanning the area for life; Nappa sat to his other side, catering to a bleeding arm wound.

"Did a number on my arm, that little bastard." Nappa growled, and Vegeta cracked his neck, leaning back on his arms.

"You'll know better than to let your guard down next time." Vegeta retorted dryly while Raditz pushed a button on his scanner, flicking his tail as the device picked up something new.

“I’m picking up some weak energy life forms out that way.” Raditz pointed off in the distance and Vegeta glared menacingly after him. He held out his palm and sent a huge beam of destructive energy in the direction of the lifeforms, then checked with his own scanner. The life energy had disappeared.

“Not anymore.” He laughed, and his comrades joined him.

“Witty as always.”

“Shut up, Raditz.” Vegeta snapped, swaying his tail as he stood, stretching.

“Our work here is done. We need to head back to the ships, time to report to _lord Frieza_ before he has a fucking tantrum.” Vegeta rolled his eyes before taking flight with a burst of golden ki. The other two Saiyans followed obediently, and even though they both towered over Vegeta, they showed him the utmost respect. He was their prince, after all.

-

The Saiyans arrived on the mothership and were greeted by a lackey waiting to escort them to lord Frieza. The squat alien nervously led the dirty, bloodied Saiyans down the corridors, finally taking them into Frieza’s hall. He opened the door, announcing their arrival in a croaky voice and stood aside as they passed him.

The room was vast and stark white with sterile grey furniture, scattered with pieces of metallic abstract art and bizarre, exotic plants. A large part of it was dominated by a spectacular window that showed the black expanse of space freckled by stars and faraway planets. Vegeta hated this room with a passion, it was always his least favorite part about purging missions- when at the end he had to kiss Frieza’s ass.

The three Saiyans filed in and stood in front of Frieza with their arms behind their backs. Frieza sat in his floating throne, his back to them and facing the window. Zarbon stood at his lord's side, looking haughtily at the bloodied, stinking Saiyans that stood waiting to address their liege.

“What news do you bring me today _prince_ Vegeta.” Frieza murmured, his back still turned.

“Planet Arvril, R-109 has been purged and is ready for the market my lord. The cities have been razed, the people destroyed, the natural resources untouched. “ Vegeta reported expressionlessly as Frieza swirled his wine glass, sipping at it gingerly when he turned to face the Saiyans.

“Excellent work as always, _prince_ Vegeta,” Frieza grinned, still swirling his wine. He glared perplexingly at the Saiyan boy, “How old are you now, _prince_?”

“Seventeen, my lord…” Vegeta answered warily, taken aback from the question. He felt Raditz shift uncomfortably next to him.

“Ah, yes the tender age of _seventeen_. If I’m not mistaken you would normally be finishing up your child studies, taking on a more political role if you were on planet Vegeta with your father, am I not mistaken?” Frieza took a long swig from the wine and Vegeta nodded once, his eyes narrowing.

“Groomed for leadership! Ha! He and the monkey queen would be busy finding you a suitable _monkey_ _princess_ , all that fuss and pomp! How silly considering you are all such primitive beasts, un-evolved blood lusting creatures that you are. I mean just _look_ at you.” Frieza motioned at each of the Saiyans, a look of mock pity on his face. Zarbon snickered beside of the tyrant, his hand covering his mouth dramatically. Vegeta kept his face blank, biting his tongue and trying to hide the churning rage behind his eyes.

“Oh little prince. Such a silly title for you, considering I would never let you be a _real_ prince. Remember Vegeta, _I am your king_! Your father is dirt beneath my feet, he is a false king!” Frieza gritted his teeth, crushing the wine glass and causing shards to splinter out. One lodged itself in Vegetas cheek, but he didn’t flinch even as the blood trickled down his neck. Frieza stared at Vegeta with a wild glare, his mouth tilted slightly to one side.

“Bow to me, false prince. Bow to me and always know that I am _your_ _king_.”

Vegeta stared impassively at Frieza, but his smoldering eyes betrayed him. His rage was unmistakable. He clenched and unclenched his gloved hands and took a deep breath before bowing down on one knee, lowering his head in utter shame. The other Saiyans looked away from their humbled prince, and Zarbon grinned maniacally.

“What an obedient boy you are. I am glad that you know your place, _monkey_.” Frieza hissed contemptuously, turning his back to the Saiyans once more and throwing his hand up.

“You are dismissed.”

Vegeta stood and immediately stormed out of the room, not stopping to wait on his comrades. His rage from the disgrace was boiling over and he felt that he could blow up the whole ship if it wouldn’t mean the destruction of all the Saiyans on planet Vegeta. Frieza had threatened to destroy the prince's home planet for years, and clearly made it known that the balance of his species rested on Vegeta’s behavior while in servitude to him. He had always played the part of the obedient servant, _the fettered prince._

-

Vegeta managed to cool off before he lost his mind completely, letting the cold water of the shower dampen some of the dangerous fire that raged in his mind.  He cleaned his wounds, including the one that Frieza had just inflicted from the wine glass, pulling the shard out and throwing it down the drain in disgust.

Afterwards he threw on a towel and made his way to his tiny (albeit private) dorm, and holed himself up from the rest of the world. To his relief, Nappa and Raditz had left him alone. They probably knew that he would send them through the wall if they bothered him at all after the humiliating spectacle with Frieza.

Vegeta dressed in casual garb, threw the towel in the chute and fell back onto his bed. He stared at the low ceiling, grinding his teeth as his tail flicked in agitation. _How had it come to this? How had that bastard Frieza grabbed the entire Saiyan species by the balls and twisted until they were a sad, subordinate people. People that had once been proud and dominant in the galaxy…_

Time passed and he fell asleep atop of the linens, but even though he was physically exhausted from the purge, he slept fitfully. Dreams of Frieza’s murder, slow and violent played out, but nightmares of the destruction of his planet haunted him as well. Hours of sleep had passed when a broadcast squealed through the speaker next to Vegeta’s bed, and he awoke wide eyed from the terrible racket that was transmitting through the system.

“What in _the_ HELLS!” He barked as he sat up, glaring at the speaker that continued producing a hideous screeching. He reared back ready to punch the thing through to the next room when he started to make out a faint voice.

“Prince Vegeta…do you copy?” It sputtered.

“Yes, I copy…” He trailed, not knowing if this was some sort of twisted trick on Frieza's part to catch him up in trouble. _Any excuse to destroy my whole planet_ …

“Meet me at dock 9 in an hour. Don’t leave your room until then and don’t talk to anyone. Cameras and security will be hacked so no one will know you’re coming. DOCK 9 in an one hour SHARP. You will be covered. Saiya’vegeiten.” Vegeta heard a click and the speaker went quiet. He stared wide eyed at the device and wrapped his tail around his waist instinctively, as if he were ready to do battle.

He glanced at the clock nervously and then grimaced. _Was this a trick by Frieza?_   Was the bastard trying to catch him up in some sort of treachery, an escape by the sound of it? But the salute at the end- it was a Saiyan phrase, a phrase among his species which was actually an archaic salute to the Saiyan royalty… would Frieza or his ass kissing drudges even take enough time to understand the complex language, or even know that outdated phrase?

“Shit.” Vegeta growled, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers as his mind raced. He jumped up from the bed and paced, weighing the pros and cons of the situation. _Even if this is a true liberation, will my race will be destroyed because I escaped? Had the idiot not thought of that? What did he mean by that ‘you will be covered’ bullshit?_

The prince sighed, feeling like blasting a hole through the whole mothership in frustration. _That phrase…that damned phrase._

He knew what he had to do.

-

Dock 9 loomed huge, dark and empty in front of Vegeta. He gritted his teeth and went forward, hugging the wall in some sort of attempt to remain concealed. This was _definitely not_ his style.

He continued through the dark, relying on his hearing and sense of smell to guide him in the gloom. If he caught wind of that bastard tyrant or any of his lackeys', he decided he would hightail it immediately back to his dormitory. So far though, he could only pick up one scent that stood out to him amongst the smell of oil and fuel: _Saiyan._

When he came close to the stranger, Vegeta didn’t recognize him by scent alone. It was definitely Saiyan, but that of a man he hadn’t met personally. The stranger, a taller and older man with haphazard hair and an X shaped scar on his cheek met him from behind a docking stairwell. He gave a respective bow and Vegeta stared cold-eyed at him.

“What in the hells' is this? How did you get here? Do you want the entire planet of Vegeta to be blown to the hells by Frieza?” He whispered harshly as the other Saiyan gave a half smile.

“I hopped on with the last fuel transport. But as for you, you will be dead to Frieza.” The stranger replied and motioned to a large bag behind him. Vegeta’s eyes widened as he picked up the smell of yet another Saiyan, as well as blood and slight decay-smells that had been muffled to him by the bag.

“What the fuck? You think that Frieza will believe that fool is me?!” Vegeta growled, his fists clenched tightly. _Did this clown actually think Frieza was so dense to believe that another random Saiyan's body would be his own?_ _Idiot…_

“Yes. There’s no time to explain, my prince, but this was a plan concocted by your royal father. You must trust him now.” The stranger motioned for Vegeta to stand back as he pulled the body from the sack, revealing a boy of his age with a wild shock of hair that was very much like his own. Vegeta cringed as he realized that the body wasn’t just of a random Saiyan at all…it was actually _his own body_.

-

The stranger removed the badly beaten corpse and made sure Vegeta realized that it was not just a dummy before heaving it into the nearby open bay, and then into a ship. The corpse had been nearly destroyed by energy blasts as well as physical damage, but was still obviously Vegeta. The stranger motioned for the prince to follow him onto the vessel and the boy reluctantly obeyed, following in behind the older Saiyan with caution. The stranger set the course and the door closed with a hissing whoosh, disconnecting slowly from the battleship. The two living Saiyans crouched as the engine whirred to life and the ship immediately took off at an extraordinary pace.

When the vessel reached cruising speeds, Vegeta stood and grabbed the other Saiyan by the collar of his armor.

“Do you mind telling me what in the hells' all this is about?!” He yelled, motioning to the body. The stranger lifted his palms.

“Of course my prince,” He answered as Vegeta loosened his grip slightly, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “This is a body grown from your cells. The king has had the scientists working on the technology in secret for several years, well since…you were taken by Frieza.”

Vegeta let the other Saiyan go and stared at the body with a morbid curiosity, his tail flicking uneasily.

“Was it ever, well, alive?”

“No my prince, it was only a body that was grown rapidly to your age.”

Vegeta went closer to it and stared in wonder. The beaten body had the same sleeveless black armor with gold shoulder guards that he wore so often- the same battered white shoes and gloves. He turned back to the stranger.

“Who are you?” He questioned, now staring the other man down intimidatingly.

“I'm Bardock, raised through the ranks to stand by our king and now to train the prince. Oh, also the father of your comrade Raditz.” He answered, his arms crossed and giving the prince a cocky grin. Vegeta made a face and crossed his own arms, glaring up at Bardock.

“I don’t know you, but you sure as the _twenty eight hells'_ aren’t going to be able to _train_ me if you’re the father of a weakling moron like Raditz.” He spat, turning to look at that unsettling lookalike body again. He would rather look at it than some fool that thought he could possibly train the prince of the Saiyans, especially after said prince had endured torture level training from Frieza for years on end… _what was his father thinking?_

“Well,” Bardock continued, “We are heading toward a planet known as Origin 305-A. A suitable planet for us to live, train and stay out of the eyes of Frieza until we can get some leverage on him.”

“Hah! Leverage on that bastard? He’s the strongest living being in the galaxy, and you think we can get leverage on him?”

“You may be surprised,” Bardock replied, looking out the vessel's window at the black expanse,“The planet is a few hours away, we can go settle in and talk, there is a lot you need to catch up on my lord.”

Vegeta nodded reluctantly, following Bardock to the bridge of the ship.

-

Vegeta sat in a passenger seat and leaned on his arm as he listened to Bardock tell stories of the government, how the king, as well as the people were continuously humiliated at the hands of Frieza. No longer was the Saiyan civilization friendly to the World Trade Organization. The rebellion had been brewing even before the prince was taken as a hostage, and after that grave offense, discontent had grown even among the noble ranks.

Vegeta had only heard whispers of agitation among the soldiers in the many horrible years he had lived under Frieza’s reign. He remembered hoping that somehow his father could devise a plan to overthrow the bastard and restore glory to the Saiyan race- but he never imagined that he ever would have come up with this _bizarre_ plan. However, if it got the heir to the throne out of the clutches of the enemy it would restore the faith of the people… but would he have to stay in hiding for the rest of his life? _What good would that do for the people if they never found out?_

“So Bardock, what is going to happen to _that_?” Vegeta nodded toward the back where the body lay on the floor.

“Well, that’s just what I was getting to,” Bardock sighed as he leaned forward in his chair, “The positioning system has been scrambled on this ship. When we make it to our destination it will be set to a remote area and sent back out into space. By the time the bastards will be able to unscramble the hack we will be out of sight, out of mind. They will find the body, _your_ body, and assume you were beaten to death. We know that you aren’t well liked among the ranks so it wouldn’t come as a huge surprise to anyone.”

Vegeta glared out the window and grimaced. The plan wasn’t _so_ bad… but he wasn't sure it would clear Frieza’s scrutiny of the crime scene. _But…_ but _if he never found Vegeta alive, if he never found out then…_

“Where the hell did they find a Saiyan that could hack Frieza’s ship? Or build that… outlandish machine to grow bodies?” Vegeta blurted, giving Bardock a sideways look, and Bardock responded with a dry laugh.

“Well, there are a few up to it, but your father has been recruiting talented outsiders as well. Very, _very_ trustworthy outsiders. Species that were also victims of Frieza’s reign, people that have faith in our ability to overthrow the bastard.”

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. Working with outsiders was a risky move, but most Saiyans weren’t too keen on building new technology and much less acute to hacking into amazingly complex systems. Not to say they were a _stupid_ species at all, but they were much more accustomed to stealing technologies in the past and generally just _kicking ass_ while doing it. But desperate times called for desperate measures, he assumed. 

“So, how are we going to overthrow Frieza?” Vegeta asked after a short silence, he continued to stare out the window at the passing stars. Bardock shifted in his own chair.

“I know you’ve heard stories, stories we grew up believing were myths… that of the legendary ascended Saiyan.”

Vegeta nodded silently. He knew from his father that this ascension was not a myth. It was his heritage, how his family had risen to power many millennia ago. _But_...

“Its no good Bardock…” He sighed, tapping his fingers irritably on the armrest. Unfortunately, the secret to unlocking the power of ascension had been lost for centuries, and not a Saiyan alive had the key.


	3. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta trains with a familiar face and readies himself for conflict. Bulma and Scargo go to a trade planet to get more news on the rebellion as it happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence ahead

Two years of training had went by on the gods' forsaken swamp planet. Vegeta leaned his head on his hand and stared out the window at the rain, the _damned_ rain that poured nearly every single day in the wetlands of Origin.

The days had become monotonous- wake up to the damp, cold air and freezing rain, training fruitlessly in said freezing rain and eating shitty military rations that they had stored up in the shanty that he and Bardock had called home. It was totally opposite of the dry, arid land of the capital on planet Vegeta; but that was such a distant memory as well. It had been so long since he had stepped foot on his home planet that he ached for it.

The Saiyan species continued on in those years, but Vegeta had gotten word from Bardock that Frieza was suspicious of the whole ‘ _beaten body on the ship_ ’ trick. It was, by all means, _Vegeta’s_ body on that ship, but he knew the way Frieza thought; his paranoia and general neurotic nature wouldn’t accept the death since it was _off_.

“Remind me to tell my father to provide better rations to the military.” Vegeta mumbled as he scarfed the meal down, regardless of its quality. Bardock gave a huff of acknowledgement as he read through papers sent from the capital of planet Vegeta along with the crate of food. The prince grimaced at him, swallowing his rations like a starved animal.

“What is that?” He asked suspiciously, and Bardock shook his head.

“Just updates on the state of Saiyan relations with the WTO. Some news of my youngest son...” He trailed, sitting the papers down on the table and packing the crate to the storage area near the bunks. Vegeta glanced at the papers, skimming through them quickly. He saw a handwritten paper underneath and pushed the others away to read it. _Something, something Kakarot, blah blah… coming to train? Blah blah, -Gine_

“Bardock, your son is coming here to train?” Vegeta inquired, standing up with a piece of half eaten bread in one hand and the letter in the other. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this situation, especially since this kid was a sibling to that _idiot_ Raditz.

“Well, yeah,” Bardock answered from the storage room, poking his head out, “I know very little about him, he had been sent out to take a planet as a cub, but he didn’t seem to have it in him.”

Vegeta stared blankly at Bardock, then shook his head in disgust. _Low level kid, no power in him- expendable and sent to a planet as a baby. Pathetic_. _Well, at least he didn’t make any gains for Frieza. But he would just get in the way here…_

-

Weeks later Kakarot showed up with the next transport ship. Vegeta was unpleasantly surprised at the kids resemblance to his father, perturbed by his off-putting goofy nature, but mostly he was disturbed by his _strength_. Vegeta berated him often for acting stupidly, not regarding him as prince or at _least_ lord, or just saying something disrespectful in general- but the brat always seemed to take it lightly with a big, _dumb_ smile.

However, after a few training sessions it was clear that the fourteen year old boy was stronger than not only his father, but also himself. It was simply unbelievable, but it was sickeningly true. And, _oh,_ how Vegeta loathed the fact some low ranking, pathetic brat that couldn’t even sack a planet of weaklings could be stronger than _him_. _But_ …but it was a fuel to raise the fire in his training, _and what a fuel it was_.

-

“Kakarot look sharp!” Vegeta growled as he kneed the kid in mid air, nearly punching him in the face before the younger Saiyan blocked it. They darted back and forth in the cloudy sky, using their ki to effortlessly glide through the air. Kakarot grimaced but gave Vegeta a half smile as he fell back into a cloud mass.

“Shit!” Vegeta stalled, throwing up a huge blast of ki in rage as he tried to detect the other Saiyan. Without a scouter it felt nearly impossible... _but stupid Kakarot_ … _he_ could detect energy from living beings, which enraged Vegeta all the more. He learned it from the people on the damned planet that he was supposed to destroy. _How utterly sickening_.

“GOT YA!” Kakarot hollered as he punched Vegeta on his blind side, lifting his arms over his head before he slammed them down into the prince's shoulders, sending the older Saiyan spinning into a copse of ancient trees below. Kakarot hovered above and stared down.

“Vegeta?”

“IT’S PRINCE VEGETA! PRINCE!” Vegeta retorted as he came blasting out of the trees, leaves and twigs flying off of him at all angles. He grabbed Kakarot by one arm and slung his body around to throw him, but the younger boy took his boot and slammed it in the prince's face. Vegeta spat, his rage unbelievable and contorted his arms in front of himself.

“GALICK HO you little SHIT!” He bawled, sending a purple blast of ki energy at the kid, who of course, blocked it effortlessly.

And so the two scrapped savagely for hours, throwing insults back and forth and generally beating one another to a pulp. The training and sparring continued for months like this; Bardock would have them complete what felt like nearly impossible tasks, lifting incredible weights, pushing the two to their physical limits every day, having them spar til near death at times. But the worst of it for Vegeta was that while his strength increased tremendously, _so did Kakarot’s_. The fuel to his fire was endless.

-

It was nearly a year to the day of Kakarot’s arrival when Bardock wrote a letter to his king. The note was encrypted of course; for if it was intercepted, the last thing he wanted was for Frieza to know that Vegeta was alive, and that they were planning a coup to end his reign. Not only was Vegeta ready, he felt that his own son, as gentle hearted as his mother, would still be a major asset to the demise of Frieza’s tyranny.

Vegeta and Kakarot sat at the rickety table, stuffing their faces with the ( _still_ ) terrible rations as Bardock wrote the crucial letter. Vegeta, of course was curious as to what it was about, and especially to _whom_ it was written. He craved news of his father and mother, but would never admit it.

“Oh this, it's going to my wife Gine, but that’s not actually who it's for.” The scarred Saiyan smiled lopsidedly as he continued writing.

“Tell mom I can’t wait to see her again.” Kakarot beamed as Vegeta shook his head disgustedly.

“Like you really know your mother you idiot! You were off planet mingling with the natives for most of your pathetic life. _Anyhow_ Bardock, tell me what _this_ is about.” Vegeta motioned to the letter and Bardock again gave a sad smile as the storm outside intensified, berating the roof deafeningly.

“It's time Vegeta, you are ready to face him, and to be honest things are getting strained between Frieza and our people. We need to act sooner than later.” He sighed, looking up from the letter to his prince. Vegeta stared at him with a hint of shock, his temper flaring up dangerously.

“How _exactly_ am I ready Bardock? I haven’t achieved the ascended form. I am _not_ an _ascended Saiyan_ , what can I plan to do to Frieza?” He took a sip from his glass of water and tapped the table with one finger.

“You two are ready, both of you. You haven’t had a scouter, you have no idea of your power level Vegeta, its astronomical…”

“Both of us? You have _got_ to be kidding!” Vegeta growled threateningly as he stared scornfully at Kakarot; the boy was already the same height as Vegeta and outgrowing him daily. _He hated it_.

“Yes my Prince, both of you. I sent for my son because while he is a bit, ah, _different_ than most of us… he is an incredibly powerful fighter…”

“This is ridiculous. Your low level whelp is NOT on par with the prince of all Saiyans!” Vegeta shouted, his pride hurt by the honest truth. Kakarot stared wide-eyed, still chewing his bread.

“Vegeta seriously, this is unreasonable. Our entire species hangs in the balance right now. We know exactly what Frieza can do and we can’t sit on our asses here in this swamp and let him do it!” Bardock retorted as Vegeta stood, knocking the chair out of the way.

“No Bardock, YOU are unreasonable. Are you _really_ sure you have any idea of Frieza’s power? Because you sure as hells' aren’t acting like you do! He will bury us and end our entire species!” The prince spat, storming outside into the pouring rain, slamming the door behind himself as he left. He was livid, furious at the sudden turn of events and ultimately terrified. _No one could defeat Freiza, no one._

Bardock and Kakarot gave each other knowing glances, and Kakarot started eating what was left on Vegeta’s plate.

"No need to waste good food, right dad?" The boy smiled, shoving canned meat into his face. Bardock sighed, tapping his pen on the paper in agitation before looking back down, finishing the last of his letter.

-

Bulma had settled in to her job as space ship mechanic, the fixer of broken electronics and co-pilot quite nicely in the past three years. She and Scargo became not only partners in crime, but also good friends as he peddled pilfered goods across the galaxy. Although he didn’t steal the merchandise himself, Scargo procured it for very cheaply and made a good profit to boot.

Bulma had cut her hair in a universally stylish reverse bob, the front coming to her chin and the back sheared short and spiky. She bought all new clothes, picking up on the styles in space with poise, but also procuring outfits that she could work in day to day.

Scargo sighed, sitting in his new captains chair on his _new_ ship that he had bought only months prior. He pushed his glasses up and stared at his screen, which was spouting off information from a nearby trade planet. Bulma was soldering some wires together in her work area when he called for her. She got up, pushing her goggles over her hair and stood at the door to the bridge with her arms crossed.

“You called?”

“I’m going to stop at SR-105 to fuel up and catch the news. I’ve got word that the Saiyans' have started a coup against the WTO and I want to find out what’s really going on.” He pushed his glasses back down and looked from his screen to her. She stood wide-eyed, dropping her arms to her side.

“Are you kidding?” She exclaimed, running over to him and watching the screen as it processed breaking news from SR-105. He put his hands together and shook his head.

“This could present a set of problems for the business.” He sighed, turning to the wheel and giving SR-105 the signal for landing. He soon got a clearance from the trade dock and pulled the ship in tight for approach.

“This is…incredible.” Bulma murmured, leaning her arm on the control area. She gleefully thought of Frieza being burned alive by the Saiyans; although they were no saints, she would be glad to see anyone destroy that bastard.

“Yeah, no one likes him but it may halt our income for weeks, maybe months depending on the outcome.” Scargo stared forward at the planet as the landscape grew increasingly more visible.

“I, for one, would give up buying clothes for a few months to see that asshole dead.” Bulma retorted, giving Scargo a look of reproach. He sighed and nodded.

“We can’t give up months of food though. Well you can’t, I can.” Scargo murmured, giving Bulma a sideways look.

“That’s true. But we have a huge pantry and I’ll be fine.” Bulma stated matter-of-factly, taking the co pilots seat next to Scargo. She folded her arms over her chest and stared off distractedly. She often fantasized being the one to end that tyrant- but if the Saiyans, which admittedly she knew little about, could do it, then so be it. Its not like she could have _actually_ killed him anyway.

Scargo stood and put his clawed hand on her shoulder as the ship settled to dock.

“Bulma, I’m gonna stay with the ship. You go into the market and get what you need. Here’s a chip with credits- make sure its food that’s gonna’ last you a while. And get water…lots of water for me.” He looked at her worriedly. She smiled at the Namekian warmly, turning to hug him. He returned the hug, awkwardly, as it wasn’t in his nature to do so. He had become like a brother to her over the past three years though, and he wasn’t surprised by the affection at all.

“Don’t be too long, it’s gonna to be chaos sooner than later.” He pushed his glasses back up his nose and nodded to her as she placed her capsules in her bag, departing the ship with a skip in her stride.

-

Bulma found the market bustling, people pushing and watching their handhelds as they received the news first hand. It was full of a worried liveliness that she hadn’t seen in a market before; she immediately felt the weight of the situation bear down on her.

Her first stop was to purchase jugs of water to encapsulate for the possibly long stint of unemployment that was bound to happen. She bought thirty jugs and sealed them away weightlessly as she watched the news broadcast on a projection screen above the market square.

“The Saiyans aint gonna’ win, there's no possible way.” A stout, red fleshed alien beside of her shook his head. Bulma looked at him expressionlessly, not replying to his prattle.

“They say the prince is alive. That he’s been hidden in secret and gathering forces,” Another alien, lizard like and slender replied to the stout red one, “They say he has become a legendary fighter, an ascended Saiyan.” He continued in his hissing voice. The red alien huffed, walking away as Bulma turned to the lizard man.

“Do you think they have a chance?” She asked, her eyes narrowed as she looked back at the screen while the news blasted in the universal language. The lizard man shrugged.

“The Saiyans are brutal yes, but Frieza is a threat to us all. We can only hope the rumors are true.” He nodded, crossing his arms.

“Well as far as I know I’m the only one left of my people, and it’s all because of Frieza. I just hope they can overthrow him…” She trailed, her eyes stinging at the thought of her friends and family… _gone forever_. The lizard man gave her a sad smile before he walked away, and she knew that she wasn’t the only one that the destruction of Frieza had touched.

-

Vegeta’s heart raced in anticipation for battle as the royal ship landed on the planet that Frieza had been lodging at for the past few weeks. It was the Arcosian's personal vacation planet, a suitable dwelling for him; freezing cold and locked in snow and ice.

The army had met little resistance, which was a good sign, as they had taken Frieza’s force off guard. The opponent obviously had no clue that the coup was taking place but the Saiyans knew, however, that a large bulk of the WTO force would be on the planet. Frieza was paranoid by nature and always had an army at hand.

Vegeta’s father stood beside him as they waited for the hatch to open. He was imposing in all his regalia and priceless family jewels, proud black and red armor with the royal family crest on his breastplate and a lavish red cape attached to the shoulder guards. Vegeta wore similar armor, but toned down to befit his rank as prince. It had been so many years since he had seen his father, and now here they were going into battle together for the first time together.

“Are you ready, Vegeta?” The king asked quietly.

“Of course, father. We will be victorious on this day.” He replied without hesitation as the hatch started to open. _He could only hope his words were true..._

King Vegeta nodded to his son and they strode out together in the snow, a battalion of the finest soldiers behind them. The lower level soldiers that had arrived before them stood bowing respectfully as they made way for their king and prince; a prince whom they believed dead for three years.

The king stopped in the middle of the clearing, holding his hand up for complete silence.

“We go into battle not only for glory, but to save our species from this bastard who has tried to crush our pride. As you all know, no one can take that from us! Many of you don’t know but this revolution has been planned for many years now. And here we are, ready to pry the bastards icy clutches off our planet, off our people!” King Vegeta made his way through the ranks and spoke to all the soldiers in a loud booming voice. They cheered after his speech, their morale sky high.

“Your prince is alive and well, he has been tucked away and has trained vigorously day and night for years! Along with him, we will destroy Frieza and all of his loyal pawns!”

-

Bulma made her way through the market, buying non-perishable goods as well as some fresh fruit and meat for the next few days. Every merchant was occupied, watching his or her handhelds or glass tablets as the news unfolded. Apparently some brave ( _or stupid_ ) souls had made their way to the battle overhead to capture the battle on camera, and now there were HD visuals on the field.

Bulma found her herself back in the main square where a crowd had gathered, arching their necks up to watch the fight unfold. The mechanic joined them, wide eyed as the camera panned in on the carnage, and she winced as other crowd goers made sounds of joy or distaste- it was a gory scene to say the least. She watched hesitantly for a few moments before pushing back through the people that had gathered in behind her, heading toward the docks to meet up with Scargo.

The mechanic pushed her way through the throng of aliens as they rushed to and fro, but when inside the docks the crowd had thinned out considerably. She made her way to the end of the row where Scargo’s ship was docked and ran up the stairs; she couldn’t wait to catch up on the battle with him, especially when it was being broadcast live. Bulma started to remove her capsules from her bag when a tall, bug eyed and muscular alien grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back. _What was going on?_

“What the hell!” She exclaimed, dropping her capsules on the stairs as she tried to regain her balance.

“This ship is off limits and the owner is being held for involvement in a universal smuggling ring.” The alien grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest threateningly as she backed away. Bulma grabbed the capsules she had dropped and glared up at the large, grey skinned bully.

“What about me? I’m the mechanic on this ship! Are they not going to question me?” She asked angrily, shoving the capsules in the bag on her waist.

“We’ve been following this scum for a long time. We have no reason to suspect your involvement as you are just what you say, the mechanic.”

“Where is Scargo! I want to see him.” She demanded, placing one hand on her hip.

“He is currently being questioned. Now _leave_.” The alien answered bluntly, and Bulma huffed angrily as she went to find a place to wait. She stood on the corner of the docks, watching the screen playing out the battle from afar. _This was bad, this was worse than not having work at all..._

-

Vegeta took a hard hit to the side of his face and he gritted his teeth, blood pouring from the corner of his mouth in a gory stream as he spat and stared down his foe. Zarbon had transformed into an unsightly beast, a form that Vegeta had never seen before, and one that he could have done without witnessing. Nevertheless, the prince was beating him without too much of a fight at all.

Zarbon started to speak when Vegeta grabbed him by the hair and kneed him in the stomach, the prince growled as he sent a blast of ki right into the beasts face. Zarbon went flying backwards in a spray of blood and smoke and Vegeta glared up through the flying snow to the angular lodge poking out from the icy pines above.

“Frieza you damned coward, get out here and FACE ME!” Vegeta roared, hovering just above the blood stained snow. He barely noticed the many battles around him as he breathed in the frigid air, and despite the freezing cold he was on fire with bloodlust.

In a huge blast of energy he flew up and around the lodge, noticing broken Saiyan bodies and some movement in the ice garden on the opposite end of the house. _A tail moving? A figure?_ He stared in shock as he realized it was Frieza, the tyrant's foot was planted heavily on his fathers back as the king lay bloodied in the snow. Vegeta dived in front of Frieza, making a move to push the Arcosian off of his father as the tyrant blocked his attempt, throwing the young Saiyan back into an ice sculpture, shattering it on impact.

“You fucking bastard!” Vegeta screamed, stalling his fall with ki and flying back at the Arcosian. He stopped abruptly in front of him with a snarl as Frieza shook his head, wagging his finger theatrically.

“Such language, Vegeta! And with your father right here! But really I don’t think he can hear you anyhow. By the way, welcome back from the _dead_.” Frieza gave the prince a wicked smile as he pressed his splayed toes down on the kings head, forcing it past the snow and into the ground. Vegeta stared in horror, making to move when Frieza halted him.

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the _situation_ Vegeta!” He threatened in a singsong voice, “All it would take is a little more pressure and your monkey king’s head will pop like a balloon!”

“And of that happens Frieza, I will end you right here.” Vegeta growled, his tail bristling even as it was wrapped around his waist. His rage was uncontrollable, his inhibitions faltering. Frieza cackled maniacally, bringing his hand to his head in a dramatic fashion.

“And you think I’m _afraid_ of _you_!?” He tilted his head back and screeched laughter. At that moment Vegeta took advantage of Frieza's unguarded form, slamming into him with full energy, knocking the Arcosian back several meters and onto his back. Frieza stared up in shock as Vegeta stood over him, ready to blast a hole in the tyrants chest.

“Don’t you _DARE_!” Frieza shrieked, backing up and using the spike on his tail as a weapon between them. He had greatly underestimated the strength of the kid... _and the damn scouter was destroyed by the monkey king…_

“What is your power level now monkey?!” Frieza hissed, arms splayed and still holding his tail between them. Vegeta grinned maliciously as he walked toward Frieza, his arrogance growing as the tyrant backed up with each step.

“TELL ME!”

“Why should I?” Vegeta hissed, but in truth he wasn't even sure himself. He hadn't tested his own power with a scouter in years.

Vegeta continued forward slowly until Freiza took off backwards in flight, his face contorted in rage. The tyrant headed into a thick copse of pines that lined the garden and the prince took the moment to return to his fallen father.

He inspected the king and found that he was still breathing, but his pulse had become weak and unsteady due to blood loss on multiple areas of his body. He was in rough shape, but the monarch would likely live. Vegeta grit his teeth and took off toward the area that Frieza had escaped to, flying over the dense pines and searching for movement. _No doubt he has a trick up his sleeve…_

Unfortunately, Frieza _did_.


	4. The Call and the Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta finds a hidden power, Bulma gets a new job working for the Saiyans.

Vegeta flew over the pines, scanning the area for any signs of movement through the boughs. He lowered himself into the forest, gliding more deliberately through the trunks with his rage churning within.

“Come out and face me you coward!” He called, stalling in the middle of a clearing and blazing with white ki. The area was dead silent, only a faint breeze blowing the snow along lightly when he heard a branch snap. Vegeta turned around rapidly to face the enemy but was only met with the silent forest. A gust of wind blew back his fringe, and he let out a derisive _tch._ He turned back to the direction he was heading, only to be met with a fist to his cheek.

“Look sharp Vegeta!” Frieza hissed as Vegeta was thrown backwards into the trees. The Saiyan prince shook his head from the brutal impact and stared ahead unsteadily. Although it sounded like Frieza, it _wasn't_ a Frieza that he had ever seen before. He had transformed into something taller, more elegant and streamlined, his muscles protruding under taut white skin.

“I figured I would cut to the chase and transform into my true, purest form.” Frieza cackled as he approached Vegeta, who was still lying on downed trees. The Arcosian bent over and pulled the lightheaded Saiyan up by his hair.

“Do you like it? I still haven't been able to control all of this power, so you're in for a real treat.” Frieza purred, kneeing Vegeta in the stomach and throwing him over his shoulder with ease. Vegeta gasped as he hit the ground on his side, powdery snow flying up wildly. He gathered all his strength and lifted himself up with his arms, glaring at the transformed tyrant in front of him.

“ _I will end you_.” He spat, bloodying the snow. Frieza smiled deviously, rushing over to the prince and kicking him backwards.

“Oh truly _prince_ Vegeta? Will you truly _end_ my days?” He tittered, again approaching the Saiyan who was now sprawled out on his back. Frieza lifted a leg to bring it down on the prince when Vegeta roared, bringing his arms together and blasting the Arcosian with a brilliant flash of golden ki.

“What the HELL!” Frieza screamed as he was forced backwards, landing weightily on a large rock jutting out of the snow. Vegeta stood up, breathing heavily from the intense pain and being careful of the ribs that were most likely crushed from his fall. He wiped away a fresh stream of blood from his mouth and approached Freiza, who was gathering himself off the stone.

“Oh no you don’t, you _fucking_ bastard!” Vegeta growled at Frieza as he started to push himself up. The prince attempted to kick him in the chest but Frieza, burned and bloody from the previous attack, grabbed the prince's boot and pushed him forcefully. As Vegeta stumbled, Frieza jumped up and tail smacked him across his broken ribs, causing the young Saiyan to writhe, gasping in agony.

“Oh Vegeta, did you not learn anything from our many years of training, so long ago?” The Arcosian mocked pity as he hovered over the prince, who lay panting below. He grabbed Vegeta with his tail, strangling him as he lifted the Saiyan off the snow to eye level.

“That _one_ lesson I drilled into your head over and _over_ you stupid monkey, have you forgotten? _I always win._ ” Frieza tightened his grip around Vegeta’s neck and swung his body into a boulder with a sickening thump, and the Arcosian cackled at the prince's crumpled form at the foot of the stone.

Vegeta glared at him half lidded, his right eye nearly swollen shut from the impact with the boulder, the pain paralyzing his form. He swallowed blood, gasping as Frieza approached him for the death strike, wondering how anyone could ever think they could overpower Frieza. _No one alive could end this monster...how had it come to this, the prince of the mighty Saiyan race dying in a pathetic heap, choking on his own blood._

"Good riddance!" Frieza hissed as he held up a ball of growing energy to throw at Vegeta, but before he loosed it he was stalled; a voice commanded his attention from the tree line. Vegeta’s good eye widened at the familiar call and Frieza's ball of energy dissipated.

“Oh for the god’s SAKE!” Frieza wailed as he turned to King Vegeta, who stood panting at the edge of the clearing. The Saiyan king roared as he powered up the last of his energy, arms contorted and legs splayed. Frieza rushed toward him with shocking speed but the elder Saiyan sent a blast of purple ki into Frieza’s chest before he could stop the monarch. Frieza was hindered only a moment from the blast before taking the king by his neck with his tail, efficiently snapping it in an instant.

“Long live the KING!” Frieza shouted as he threw the lifeless body of king Vegeta to the side. The prince watched the event in slow motion horror, hardly believing what had just taken place as he stood up. Pure rage replaced the feeling of intense pain as Vegeta lifted himself off the bloodied snow, a low rumble escaping his raw throat as he bared his bloodied teeth.

“I should have taken him and that entire pathetic monkey race out years ago, would have saved me all this _damn trouble_!” Frieza complained, not noticing that Vegeta was now up on his feet and staring at the Arcosian with unbelievable wrath.

Vegeta sensed his ki erupt violently into bolts of electricity surrounding his entire body. He felt the world slow down, the speed of the snowfall nearly halted as the landscape turned red in his peripheral vision. All he could see was the whiteness of Frieza’s form hovering a few meters before him, his head moving unfathomably slow as he looked up from the king’s corpse to Vegeta’s face. Frieza glared at him with utter confusion, which was soon replaced by shock creeping into the tyrant’s crimson eyes.

The world came back to speed when the prince grabbed Frieza by the shoulders and head-butted him, just before tossing the tyrants body like a rag doll to the ground. He felt incredible, raw and furious power filling his entire body, replacing every trace of pain he had felt only moments prior.

“You fucking piece of GARBAGE!” Vegeta roared, picking the Arcosian up by the tail and slamming his body back down to the ground with an earth shaking smack. Frieza tried to scrabble away backwards, frantically grabbing at the stones and ice around him for leverage when the Saiyan kicked him over a frozen pond had been previously hidden by the snow. Frieza went sprawling out on the slick surface as Vegeta attacked from above with a kick that sent his head bursting through the ice and into the frigid water below.

Vegeta went in to grab Frieza by the back of the neck when the tyrant gained his composure and gripped the Saiyan's arms. He screeched in rage as he pulled the prince down, slamming him into the hole in the ice. Frieza jumped up in a panic and hovered over Vegeta, forcing his splayed toed feet onto the Saiyan's head to hold him under the shallow water.

Vegeta pushed himself up from the rocks below, lashing backwards and pushed Frieza’s foot off as he ascended from the water. Frieza stared at him in sheer terror, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe that _this_ could be happening to him.

“It was supposed to be a rumor! A monkey fairy-tale!” He shrieked, gathering up energy at the end of his index finger when Vegeta rushed him, hitting him in the ribs hard enough to shatter the whole left side. Frieza screamed in agony as he fell, but Vegeta caught him by the neck just before he landed. He grabbed the Arcosian's head and kneed him in the shattered ribs before twisting his arms back until they snapped sickeningly.

Frieza cried out pathetically as he fell to his knees, knowing at this point he was overpowered for the first time in his life. Blood poured from his mouth and dripped into a puddle below as he gasped; he had never felt so much pain or humiliation.

“Vegeta! Vegeta have mercy please! Think of the repercussions of my untimely death!” Frieza pleaded hoarsely as his useless arms dangled. He found himself backed into a corner and he had no other choice than to beg for his life.

“Like you had mercy for me, like the mercy you showed my _father_?!” The prince screamed as he raised his ki. Vegeta’s blood lust had taken over any sane thought at this point; his only objective was to murder Frieza no matter if it meant a war with the whole gods damned Cold dynasty. He grinned wickedly when he remembered the last time he had seen the tyrant, over three years prior. Frieza had shamed the prince, forcing him to shed all of his pride and bow like a peasant. Vegeta knew what he needed to do before he ended the Arcosian's life.

“Bow.” Vegeta commanded, and Frieza gave him a look of utter shock.

“I renounce my claim to your planet, your people, your throne!” Frieza pleaded and Vegeta kicked him in the stomach.

"BOW TO ME! Know that I am your KING!" He commanded again, and Frieza reluctantly bowed his broken body to the ground in submission. Vegeta relished his former captor's surrender for only a moment, finally grabbing Frieza’s face and placing his palm on his forehead. The tyrant struggled as the prince powered up his ki to a blinding light, blowing a hole clear through the Arcosian's head. In that colossal flash of energy, the Cold dynasty lost one of their most powerful members at the hands of the first ascended Saiyan in over a thousand years.

-

Bulma had enough money on the credit chip to get an inn for the week following Scargo’s detainment. She was elated with the news that Frieza was dead and a good number of his fleet destroyed, but she was truly worried for the fate of her best friend. Her _only_ friend...

She had gotten to visit him for fifteen minutes the previous day, he had been beaten and one of the lenses on his glasses was entirely cracked. Regardless of his physical appearance he had a warm, albeit fanged smile for her. Unfortunately he told her that he was going to be jailed for a good many years. His ship was to be sold, all of their belongings auctioned off to the highest bidder. She didn't want to leave him, but the guards forced her out as they dragged Scargo back to his holding cell.

Bulma sat in the window of her rented room, looking out miserably onto the sunny streets of people bustling by without a care. She watched the leaves falling off the urban trees and it reminded her of the autumns spent on Earth. She gave a sad smile and stood, stretching, going to the chest where she laid her freshly laundered clothes out for the day. _Today_ was the day she had to look for a new job, a new life yet _again_. _Again._

-

Bulma made her way through the streets in the chilly autumn air of SR-105, or Serenity as it was known by the locals. She stopped by a street vendor and grabbed a tasty hot beverage that was somewhat reminiscent of coffee, and then headed to the space dock to look at job postings

She went over her personal inventory in her head… she only had a few hundred credits left, a _very_ limited set of tools in the capsules, a few emergency outfits and hygiene products ( _thankfully)_ , some personal trinkets, and the copious amounts of water and food she had bought a week earlier. _I don’t have the credits to buy any good tools, and a lot of these bastards want you to have your own…_

Bulma stood staring up anxiously at the job board, bundled up in her scarf and keeping warm in an olive green jacket. Her goggles sat on her head as always, and she held the cup of " _coffee"_ , now nearly empty. She read over the postings in the universal language, finding a lot of the usual dockworker jobs, heavy lifters on transport ships, one seeking an accountant, some for cooks ( _good luck there_ ), a few for various odd jobs and _one_ … _one_ searching for ship mechanics.

_Experienced ship mechanics needed immediately for maintenance and emergency work. Ship type is standard UNEU engine, work will be considered full-time temporary for an undetermined period and may become full time permanent. Bonus pay for periods of battle. Bring UEM paperwork or be prepared to take a three hour proctored test. Dock 12B._

She sighed, looking up at the post which was written in two languages, universal and _Saiyan_. At this point working on a Saiyan ship meant war, and that was something she was not into. But she really didn’t have the luxury of waiting around since she only had enough credits for one more night at the inn- and roughing it on the streets was _not_ an option. Also, becoming a cook wasn’t an option either, since no one would ever eat _anything_ she made. To think, she had once been a child of wealth and prosperity, her future as bright as the sun. And now? Now she was truly bottom feeding.

She turned the cup up and finished the last of her drink, wishing it was liquor instead of knock off coffee.

-

Bulma arrived at the B docks, staring up at the enormous space ships lined up in a row. This was the dock for the big boys, the only ships bigger were the ones that stayed in space permanently- usually employing multiple full time mechanics to take care of the many engines and the vast inner workings of such a massive machine. Space travel was hard on any ship, and the bigger they were the harder they worked.

She made her way down to dock 12 and looked around anxiously for a booth or even a sign set up, but unfortunately none were present. She found no sign of life anywhere near the twelfth dock at all, and she warily looked up to the imposing glossy black ship looming above. It exhibited strange red symbols, some writing in the Saiyan language and some that looked like insignias. She made a face and walked up the gangway as the wind blew relentlessly down the side of the ship, making the thing seem even more uninviting.

She came up to the side entrance facing an open door and stood in front of it warily. She peeked inside to a dark hall and knocked on the side of ship.

“Helllloooo?” She called out, still looking around for signs of life. _This ship was really giving her the creeps…_

“State your business.” A deep male voice answered her from the first room adjacent to the doorway. Bulma startled slightly and made her way over the threshold toward the voices owner.

“My name is Bulma, I’m here in regards to the ship mechanic job.” She said as she entered the room where a bald, older Saiyan man dressed in a black uniform was working on his computer. It never ceased to shock her how much the Saiyans looked like humans ( _aside from the tail, teeth and usually wild hair_ ), and it was somewhat comforting seeing a familiar face even if it was of a Saiyan with a bad attitude. _And most of them have bad attitudes…_

He cocked an eyebrow at her, but motioned for her to sit. She obeyed and watched him as he finished typing something on the screen while grabbing a pen with his tail, setting it in front of her. She blinked and took the pen as he turned from his computer and sat some paperwork down in front of her.

“First question, do you have your UEM paperwork with you or have you taken the test before?”

“I don’t and I haven’t,” she answered a bit nervously as he side eyed her, “I’ve worked on one ship for three years and the owner didn’t require it.”

“I see. Well here,” He pointed to the paperwork on the left with his tail, “Is your test. You have three hours exactly, if you are not finished by then any work you’ve finished will be unacceptable.”

“I understand, I’m ready.” Bulma said, taking her pen up. The Saiyan nodded and started a timer on his handheld.

-

In less than an hour Bulma was finished with the test. As usual, her genius was showing.

“And you’re _sure_ you’re finished?” The man asked giving Bulma a suspicious side eye.

“Absolutely, it was a piece of cake!” She answered with a bright smile. He gave her a strange look and set the papers into a scanner for scoring. After about a minute the machine had processed the test and the Saiyan stared nearly slack jawed at the report.

“You didn’t miss a single question.” He stated, still giving her a suspicious look. She shrugged, still smiling.

“Anyhow... Fill this paperwork out on the right.” He again pointed with his tail. Bulma took up the papers and answered the somewhat strange questions.

**_Race and gender/s: Human, female_ **

**_Home planet and section: Earth, S-908 outskirts of Milky Way_ **

**_Has your home planet been sacked in the past? Has it been destroyed? Explain: Sacked by WTO, not destroyed as far as I know?_ **

**_If hired, will you be adverse to obeying Saiyan command or acknowledging and respecting nobility or royalty?: no._**

_What a weird question…_ Bulma continued to fill out the paperwork, making faces at the stranger of questions as the older Saiyan continuously tapped at his keyboard. When she was finished she sat the pen down and waited on him to take it with his tail, but he left it where it was and took her paperwork with his hands. He went through each paper with an expressionless face and finally sat the paperwork in the scanner.

“I see that your planet was sacked, we need to know if you hold any grudges against the Saiyan race because of this event.” He asked, folding his hands together seriously.

“Well _no_ , it was Frieza’s work.” She stated in a way that was more like a question.

“Our records do not indicate any Saiyan involvement on the planet S-908.” He answered, but Bulma still felt the answer was skirting something important.

“But the Saiyans worked for Frieza right? I mean, I knew _that_ …” She said anxiously.

“Yes the Saiyans worked for him under the premise that our planet and people not be harmed. However a look into the past of the Saiyans actions will not prove that different from Frieza’s actions. Is this going to be a problem?”

Bulma stared blankly at the man, and then shook her head.

“No.” _It wouldn’t be, would it?_

“Well then, we will be setting out in a week to get you assigned to a ship if your background check proves suitable.”

“A week? I don’t have a week! I can only stay like... one more day at the inn!” Bulma exclaimed, biting her lip anxiously. The Saiyan looked at her unamused.

“I would normally tell you to deal with it but since we are in dire need of good mechanics, and you are the only person to have ever passed the test without any incorrect answers I will make... _accommodations_.” He sighed.

“Oh excellent! I don’t need food or anything, believe me I got that covered right now!” she exclaimed excitedly, glad to have a place to stay, even if it was on this creepy ship.

“You have…food, on you right _now_?”

“Oh yes, I have _these,_ capsules… I can carry a ton of stuff with them. My dad created them, but unfortunately I never learned how to make these marvels before he died.” She answered with a hint of sadness. The Saiyan stared at her disconcertedly, shook his head once again and then reluctantly told her where her room would be on the ship.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be where Vegeta and Bulma meet, but the smut will actually be between Bulma and her current lover, and Vegeta with one of his (this is, of course before they fall madly in love with each other!) Just a fair warning for anyone who is bothered by them being with other pairings.
> 
> *Edited 12/18/17


	5. To War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the new king Vegeta prepares for war, Bulma is assigned to the royal battleship for work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small bit of smut in this chapter involving Bulma and her Saiyan fling (Not Vegeta...yet). Also I was hoping to have them meet in this chapter but I didn't feel like it was the right time yet. Vegeta is made aware of her stunning presence however :>

Vegeta tossed around in the sheets before sitting up, wide awake at the crack of dawn. He looked over at the nude Saiyan woman still dozing in his bed and then down at the floor, sighing as he placed his feet on the cold stone. He grabbed his black embroidered robe from the standalone hanger beside of his bed, wrapping it around himself before going out to the balcony overlooking the capital city.

It had been nearly two years since the rebellion, but things hadn't been easy since Frieza was dead. The Cold dynasty, although few in number, retaliated with its large and very powerful force. The war had begun the moment Frieza was murdered, but Vegeta didn’t regret the act at all.

Bardock had been right all along about his whelp, Kakarot; The boy proved of incredible value and strength during the rebellion, taking down more foes than any other ally combined. He was now the only other ascended Saiyan aside from Vegeta.

Vegeta had trained with Kakarot personally, beating him to an inch of his life, threatening to kill everyone the boy had even known or cared for when the transformation happened. He was slightly surprised the younger Saiyan had it in him, but because of his enormous strength he assumed the ascension would happen _eventually_. _And he needed all the power he could get against the Cold’s…_

The young king leaned on the banister and watched the sun crown over the dunes in the distance, washing his city below with a brilliant rosy hue. The wind blew dry and warm in the clear sky, and in that moment he wished for nothing more than his father to be here watching over the empire with him.

The former king would be proud of the capital, growing and expanding, in much better shape than it had been under Frieza's reign. All currency made from exports of the abundant fine jewels, precious metals and even the gourmet mushrooms that grew in the underground caves went right back into the economy, and outside trade on the planet had opened up for the first time in Saiyan history. 

In times past, the Saiyans would plunder what they wanted when they sacked other planets on stolen ships; but with the growth of technology and education the race had turned to a capitalistic way of gaining wealth. However, despite their progression, the Saiyans still retained their heated, fighting nature- and many other races tread and traded carefully in the markets of planet Vegeta.  _But at least they are trading…_ Vegeta mused as he observed the market area to the east.

“Oh my king, its so cold out here!” A woman’s voice disturbed his thoughts, and he looked back at the doorway where a slender figure stood in a gossamer nightgown.

“You interrupted my peace Leakeh.” He mumbled, sitting down on the stone bench. She came up behind him, pressing her thumbs deeply into his muscular shoulders and kneading them tightly.

“I’m so sorry my king. I can leave if you like!” She answered sweetly, but he knew it was a bullshit ruse. _Another lower noble woman wanting to be the queen_. Pft.

“No, no just keep that up.” He motioned to her massaging hands and sighed. The nobility had been pressuring him into choosing a noble born mate, of which he wanted nothing to do with at the moment. The war was all consuming, and besides he liked to have his fun.

After a few more moments of peace, a pounding at the door interrupted his meditation. _And so it begins._

 _“_ Come in! What do you want?” He shouted, and the chamber door opened to admit a Saiyan general in a simple armored uniform, one that was commonly worn on the home planet. He stood by the balcony door and bowed, presenting the report with a hint of nerves.

“Good morning my King, I have came to report on the state of the Cold ship, we are continuing to fortify forces around the planet for an impending attack by the enemy king. However, we have finally located the ship…” the general stalled as Vegeta hissed.

"We have eyes on his battleship?" The king asked, narrowing his eyes dangerously.

"Y-yes my king, it is in the Anarazii section V-603..."

“That close! And no one picked it up before now?” Vegeta growled.

“All technology as well as scouts have been eluded by the Cold’s scramblers…” The general trailed.

"Have ALL the active forces on high alert.... No, have ALL the active forces report to duty and ready the ships! I need to speak to all my generals immediately, have them meet me in the war room in an hour."

The general bowed deeply and made his way out in a hurry. Vegeta leaned his head on one hand and stared at the sun, brilliant and gold now as it climbed above the dunes. Leakeh placed her hand on his shoulder and he brushed it off. 

"Leave me." He mumbled, and the woman left without another word.

-

Bulma woke up drowsily in the small apartment she had rented over the past year in the capital city. She had worked on differing ships for the first year until she was promoted and stationed to work dockside on planet Vegeta. She had been inspecting ships that were back from long hauls and repairing what lesser mechanics had missed or just couldn’t fix.

She yawned as she sat up, her covers stolen by her bedmate. She looked over at the Saiyan, Caulitz, sprawled out under all of the linens; his tail and one leg hanging over the side of the bed. She grinned and shook her head at the sleeping Saiyan and rose to stretch, heading toward the bathroom to get ready for the day.

She brushed her teeth, staring at her hair which stuck up at wild bed-headed angles and groaned at her tired, slightly hung over visage. Giving an exhausted sigh she made her way to the shower, turned the water on and got in to stand under the stream with her face toward the spout.

She began to wash her hair when she heard the door slide open slowly. She saw the wild black hair before the handsome face as Caulitz peeked in at her, his tail wagging. 

"Good morning Human." He grinned and she laughed, her hair full of bubbles as she pulled him under the water playfully. He pressed his tan, muscular body against her creamy white curves and grabbed her ass as she reached up to kiss him deeply. He pushed her back against the cold stone of the shower, pressing his fingers below the short teal curls between her legs. She closed her eyes, gasping as he messaged her clit. She wrapped one arm around his neck and nibbled on his ear as he kissed her shoulders.

The water washed the bubbles from her hair as they embraced; he wrapped his tail around her leg as his cock pressed longingly against her thigh. She stared at him with heavy lids and pulled his hand away from her clit, lacing her arms around his neck as he lifted her effortlessly up and slid her down onto his length. Bulma wrapped her legs around his torso as he thrusted up into her, moaning in pleasure despite the inevitable wrath of the neighbor.

They were at the deed for no more than four minutes before a siren rang out, wailing in short bursts loud enough to hear over the running water. Caulitz stalled his performance with a look of apprehension and Bulma glared at him in confusion.

“What the hell is that?” She asked as he pulled out of her, untangling her legs gracelessly before he sat her down in the running shower.

“It’s a siren.” He answered, opening the shower door and grabbing a towel.

“No shit!” Bulma exclaimed, rather sexually frustrated but also in a growing panic that quelled her fire.

“That’s the siren for when the city is on high alert, I have to report to duty,” He shouted over the running water, “You stay inside and don’t leave unless they call you out.”

“Of course.” She answered, listening to him rummage through the closet where he stored his armor when he stayed over for the night. Bulma continued to wash as Caulitz donned his gear and armor, leaving with a quick “Goodbye” before heading out the door.

Bulma turned the water off and stood in the steamy shower. Her mind was swimming and fear took hold like being thrown into ice water. Fear that she would have to escape yet again, start over yet again, lose everything and everyone _again_.

-

Vegeta had to constantly fight with his servants over stupid _shit_. They always wanted to pamper him, run his bath for him, dress him... _like he couldn’t do any of that  for his gods damned self after twenty two years._ He had lived with Frieza from the age of seven to seventeen and that bastard sure as _shit_ wasn’t going to do any of that for him.

“No, _gods_ I don’t need you to do anything else just buckle my armor in the back.” He grumbled to the servant that he had called in, a lowborn Saiyan woman in a gauzy serving dress and hair as long and wild as Raditz’s. She bowed her head and fastened his armor silently, standing aside as he insisted on buckling his own cape onto the clasps at his shoulders.

He turned from the mirror and lifted the heavy ruby and platinum family necklace off the wooden mannequin that had also held his royal armor; he sighed as he pulled it over his head and glared at it in the mirror. It was the same necklace he lifted off the neck of his dead father, a piece of jewelry he both cherished and abhorred.

Vegeta stared in the mirror a moment longer before he remembered the servant was still standing there like an idiot, and he shooed her out of his chamber. He grabbed his platinum and ruby tail cuff from the dresser and wrapped his tail around his waist, clasping it just below his navel, making it look a bit like a buckle.

He didn’t care much for the cuff but it was the fashionable thing to do. And besides, most Saiyans had an inborn need to show off their trinkets, if they had them of course. A race that had plundered and pilfered for thousands of years didn’t do it just to ransack granaries. They loved their platinum, gold and precious stones.

Just as he was ready to exit the chamber and meet his generals he heard a rapping at the solid wooden door.

“What is it _now_?” Vegeta exclaimed, rushing over to the door and opening it with an angry force. His mother, Celera, stood glaring at him unamused.

“Hello mother.” He said in a slightly rueful tone, motioning for her to enter. He closed the door behind her as she took a seat in the lavish conversation area. She was lovely as always in a fine silk dress, her long black hair kept tame in a braid wrapped with gold ribbon and jewels, her skin a gorgeous bronze that matched Vegeta’s own.

“You should really be more pleasant with the servants dear, it’s unbecoming of a king to be so… antagonistic with the help.” She sighed, giving him a reproachful look. He grinned knowingly as he took a seat in front of her.

“I’m sure you didn’t come here today to discuss how I treat the servants.”

“No, I did not my son. I came to discuss the sirens.”

“The city is on high alert.”

“And I have deduced that, but what are you planning to do about the threat from the Colds?” Celera asked bluntly. Vegeta glared at her.

“I plan on destroying him and his whole damned army. I’m not going to let the capital, or any cities on this planet- _hells_ , the whole planet be destroyed.”

“So you plan to take the battle to him.”

“It needs to be done.”

“It is also very important that you don’t get yourself killed, your younger brother is not fit for the role of king. Why don’t you send your top generals out and stay here. I can’t bear the thought of losing you again.”

_Of course this is what she wanted…_

“Mother, let me be frank if I may. I will not, as the king of Saiyans, sit on my ass while my soldiers, my generals, my captains, my..”

“I get the point.” She motioned him on.

“I will not let them go and die without their king! That would be a very cowardly action and you know it. Its something I would _never_ do.” He swayed his tail in agitation.

“And you lust for the battle.” She sighed dramatically, drooping her tail over the armrest.

“Well of course, I am a red blooded Saiyan.” He countered as she rolled her eyes haughtily. Vegeta gritted his teeth, his tail flicking faster.

“Mother, let me ask you, do you know the _things_ I went through when I was a hostage to not just Frieza, but the Colds? Hmm?” He narrowed his eyes as she gave him a stunned look. _She wasn’t expecting this…_

“Oh yes mother, the things _your little boy_ got to endure. I know Saiyan training is tough…” He waved his hand dramatically, “But it was a normal day to be beaten just to _toughen_ me up, dragged around by my tail when I couldn’t keep up, to be slapped for not knowing an answer fast enough, attacked with incredibly painful energy blasts just for, well, _existing_. And that’s all besides the training. Being brutalized on a daily basis was not a fun way to grow up _mother_. I deserve the pleasure of ripping their heads off their fucking bodies and…”

“Enough!” She exclaimed, standing up and heading to the door. He stood up behind her, realizing he _may_ have went too far.

“Mother…” He trailed as she lifted her hand for him to stop.

“You’ve said enough Rubra.” She called him by his given name, making him cringe. Celera opened the door and walked out, leaving her son in the doorway and feeling slightly sorry for his words. _But not that sorry_

-

Nearly an hour had passed since Caulitz had left when Bulma received a call on her handheld. She picked it up off the bar and winced as she immediately recognized the caller. She hit the accept button on the touch screen and was greeted by a Saiyan woman with short, spiky hair and a non-combatant uniform.

“Bulma, as you may know by now we are under a state of emergency.” The woman stated unemotionally, and Bulma nodded to the screen.

“You are our best mechanic by far and we need you here immediately for departure.”

“Departure?” Bulma questioned, her stomach fluttering in surprise.

“Yes. Don your uniform and come immediately.” The woman replied and abruptly disappeared from the screen. Bulma sat the handheld back down on the bar with a rush of emotion, feeling suddenly as if she would cry; but despite her emotions, she knew there wasn’t time for that. The Saiyan army was going to war, and it looked like she was going with them.

-

Bulma arrived at the port with haste, considering she already had an emergency capsule filled with a wardrobe and necessities. She rushed to the port manager that she had spoken with earlier to get her ship assignment. She hadn’t had to do this for over a year now, and she realized she had taken working the nine-to-five on-planet for granted.

“Bulma you will be head Mechanic on the _Palaibra_. We are loading the shuttle on Dock 5c.” The manager stated behind the counter, handing Bulma a metal card with Saiyan writing and staring at her with blank, dark eyes. Bulma grabbed the card and took a moment to process what her manager had just told her.

“Wait, that’s the royal battleship, right?” She questioned, eyes narrowing in surprise.

“Yes, now please move on I have others to tend to.” The manager said apathetically as Bulma obeyed her orders. She stared at the card with the royal crest stamped on the front and tried to read the Saiyan words on it. Unfortunately she had little time to study the language, and since most Saiyans spoke _passing_ universal language she hadn’t really needed to learn.

However, she was surprised they would assign an _alien_ to the royal battleship, as she had only been assigned from low to mid ranking soldier ships in the past. The Saiyans had come a long way by trusting skilled aliens that would benefit the military and economy, but it was still shocking that they would trust her on _the_ royal ship. The royal ship full of not only top ranking military, but the king himself.

She made her way to dock 5c and reached the gate for the shuttle, a Saiyan man behind the window glared at her suspiciously as she handed him the card. He looked at it, then back at her as he picked up his communicator. She could hear him talking to someone in the Saiyan language, presumably the port manager, before he allowed her clearance to the dock. He handed her the card back without a word as she made her way to the gangway.

When she entered the shuttle she was greeted by stares in a ship full of Saiyans. She assumed they were mostly all top ranking military as she made her way to an empty spot between two men decked out in full armor. She felt the pressure of the stares lessening as she took her seat and exhaled in relief.

“Hey, what’s your job here?” A male voice speaking the universal language inquired from her left. She glanced over and up at the young Saiyan with hair sticking out at all angles.

“Well, I’m a mechanic.” She smiled and he returned it warmly.

“I’m Kakarot, pleased to meet you. Where are you from?” He asked her, putting his hand out affably. She was surprised at his warmness, as it usually took Saiyans a long time to become comfortable with any stranger, _especially_ an alien stranger.

“I’m Bulma, I’m a human from a planet called Earth.” She said, shaking his hand.

“Earth, hmm. Never heard of it, I grew up on a planet called Leathis so I guess I’m kind of a foreigner too.” He said, putting his arms behind his head like he was daydreaming. She smiled at him and grabbed the handle above her head when the shuttle pilot announced that it was ready for takeoff.

“You look a lot like a Saiyan huh? But with different color hair and eyes...” He looked around to her backside. “And no tail is all. And I guess you’re kind of small and puny.” He said as the engines started up.

“I guess I am a little puny.” She laughed as the ship ascended from the dock.

“Kakarot leave her alone.” An enormous bald Saiyan just to the right of Kakarot exclaimed, the younger man shot him a hurt look.

“Ah Nappa c’mon I ain’t bothering her.” Kakarot glanced over at Bulma.

“You’re not bothering me at all.” She smiled and the one called Nappa sat back and sighed.

“See Nappa. But you know what, I sure hope the food’s good cause _I_ _am_ _starving_!” Kakarot stated while Bulma watched out the window as the shuttle slowly approached the colossal battleship hovering in space.

-

Vegeta arrived in a private ship with two of his generals on the _Palaibra_. The battleship closed its hatch as the small ship hovered and landed on the pad within. The smaller vessels hatch lifted and he stood from his seat, flanked by his generals as he departed the ship.

He walked through the docks speaking to his generals when he spotted something _teal_. The general on his right was speaking as he glanced over at the woman with teal hair and the grey uniform of a mechanic, an _alien_ woman. She was speaking with three other Saiyans, seeming as if she were instructing them with animated hand gestures.

“Since when did we start allowing aliens on my ship?” Vegeta interrupted the general mid speech, and the two men looked confusedly at the teal haired woman. One of them cleared his throat.

“That alien was cleared by me, my king, she was recommended to us by the dock manager as the most competent ship mechanic in the capital. She is actually the lead mechanic on this ship.” He stated with a hint of nerves. Vegeta nodded and continued to watch her, the artificial light in the room beaming off of her teal hair brilliantly. _She was a beautiful woman, despite being an alien…_

“We can have her escorted off and sent back to the capitol on a pod if…”

“That won’t be necessary.” Vegeta retorted, taking his eyes off the woman and leading the way ahead.

 


	6. The Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma finds out that the man she had met in the library was the king... the two have a chat in the war room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *edited and updated 12/16/17
> 
> Art by the WONDERFUL Skippy Lynn, go check out her amazing work!

 

The journey to meet the Cold’s ship was rather uneventful. Even though the engines were working at full speed, the team only met a few minor malfunctions that were no problem to take care of with Bulma’s expertise. She knew that soon the situation would change though, as the ship would inevitably be attacked and sections of the vessel would go into emergency lockdown…they may lose engines, cooling pipes would be damaged, power would be lost.

Bulma tried to push the worry away since the evening before battle was to be a celebration, a toast for the living and for those who would inevitably lose their lives in the fight to come. She had the night off duty and she planned to celebrate to the fullest since there was a possibility she could be losing her life too.

She shared a dorm room with three other women, one was her mechanic comrade, Yama, and the other two were soldiers, Turnit and Ginre. The two soldiers had met her with a rather hostile attitude, but over the past few days of bunking together they had started to become fast friends. The Saiyan women pushed in beside of Bulma at the mirror, doing their own primping and chatting together about the night ahead.

“I wonder if Pumek is gonna be there?” Ginre said as she braided her wild hair.

“You _would_ be thinking about that asshole.” Turnit mumbled from the bed, browsing on her handheld without looking up.

“I wonder if king Vegeta is going to be there…” Yama asked out loud, looking at the other women from the mirror while braiding the side of her shoulder length black shock.

“I’ve never even seen the king.” Bulma replied, finishing up her makeup and placing the bag under her bed. The other women gave her a look.

“How long have you lived on the planet woman? Anyhow he’s a _very_ handsome man.” Turnit replied, looking up from her handheld dreamily.

“He’s too short for me.” Yama murmured as she applied her lipstick.

“He’s _not_ too short for me. I would _love_ to be his queen…even if just for a night.” Ginre purred.

Bulma smoothed her belted blue dress in the mirror, checking it from each angle and finishing the look off with a sheer white scarf and white boots that were all the rage in Saiyan fashion.

“I bet the Saiyan boys all love you Bulma! With that lovely teal hair and tiny frame.” Yama commented as Bulma shrugged.

“Oh I bet, have you been with one of our men yet?” Turnit asked bluntly, giving Bulma a mischievous smile. Bulma grinned wickedly.

“Oh, oh _yes_.” She replied to the others delight, and they all laughed together. It was understood that there was nothing in the universe quite like a Saiyan man.

-

The four women entered the bustling gallery fashionably late. The celebration had already started an hour prior; upbeat Saiyan music played and drinks were flowing abundantly. Her dorm mates looked around for people they knew, and Bulma made a glance for Caulitz. She wasn’t sure that he would be on this ship since he was a second rank soldier, but she scanned the sea of spiky black hair for him anyhow.

When Bulma finally spotted him, she had to do a double take. There he was, chatting with his friends, downing a beer with _another woman_ on his lap, his hand on her thigh and her tail wrapped around his. Her mind immediately went into attack mode, and she started to approach them- but took a deep breath, swiftly quelling her anger. The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene in front of an entire ship full of Saiyans, especially since she was so incredibly weak, even compared to the most pathetic of the species.

She and Caulitz weren’t exclusive, but she still couldn’t stop the view from getting under her skin. She closed her eyes before turning to the taller Saiyan woman beside of her.

“Lets go get something to drink!” Bulma chirped, averting her attention from Caulitz and grabbing Yama by her arm. Yama agreed enthusiastically and the women went to the bar at the back of the room.

“I’ll have a Blood Drop.” Yama ordered the shot from the busty barmaid as Bulma inquired about the beer.

“Well then I guess I'll have a Red Horizon. A TALL one.”

The two women sat and chatted over the noise, scanning the crowd for people they knew. They watched a brawl break out on the other side of the room, which was not at all uncommon in a large group of Saiyans.

“What fools, fighting over that worthless woman Rasit.” Yama grumbled, downing her shot and ordering another. Bulma laughed and took a swig of her dwindling beer.

“Well, I just saw my…well he isn’t my boyfriend but we’ve been you know, _seeing_ each other for the past few months…with another woman tonight. I know I shouldn’t be mad because we never committed but…” Bulma sighed, now looking at the bottom of the glass.

“Thats still pretty shitty, I’m sorry Bulma.” Yama answered genuinely before downing the next shot.

"Thanks."

“There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Yeah well. I think its because I’m an _alien_ , I think that’s why he never committed. Or the guy before that either. They are ashamed of me.” Bulma said sourly, turning to order another beer. Yama sighed, leaning against the bar and giving Bulma a slightly tipsy look of pity.

“And the thing is, Yama, that I’m the only one left of my kind. As far as I know there are no other humans alive in the entire universe. I’ve settled in here, but no matter what I’ll always be an outsider...” Bulma trailed, her eyes feeling moist as she thought about Caulitz. Yama pounded her empty shot glass on the bar and grabbed Bulma by the shoulder.

“Look Bulma, you will find someone! You are a gorgeous woman; you’re smarter than any damn Saiyan in here. You’ll find someone, I know you will!” Yama declared, smiling down at Bulma with her many freckles and big black eyes. Bulma wiped away a tear that had fell down her face and gave a weak grin. She hoped Yama was right.

-

Throughout the night the two ladies had several pursuers, but Bulma wasn’t in the mood to flirt. She watched as Yama made a friend and left giggling with him sometime later, which left her on her own. Bulma took a shot before she departed, but instead of going back to her room she wanted to visit the library to get some peace, quiet and contemplation. She knew no one would be up there at that point in the night, and in that moment that was perfectly fine with her.

She got off the elevator and walked down the hall, feeling a bit tipsy but not drunk by any means. She opened the massive door to the library, relishing the instant blast of cool air and smell of thousands of books. It reminded her so much of the library at Capsule Corporation that it was nearly painful, but she wondered on through the bookshelves anyhow, feeling a nagging nostalgia for home.

She soon realized that a good number of the books were written in the universal language, and came across one called _History and culture of the Saiyans_. She pulled it from the shelf and made her way to a sitting area near a massive window with a dark view of space.

Bulma sat in a plush chair with a happy sigh, opening the book and reading the foreword, realizing that it was written by a Saiyan as a guide for other races. _Bingo_ , it was just perfect for her. She knew so little of the culture and people that she had lived and worked with for over two years. Maybe if she could learn more, understand them better- than she could fit in better as well. She had to try, at least.

It didn't take her long to became enamored with the book, reading about the bloody and brutal history of the people, the war with the Tuffles and founding of planet Vegeta- as well as the fascinating theory of the Oozaru transformation. She came to the section on the royal family when she was startled by a low voice.

“Didn’t think anyone would be in here.” The man said, stopping in front of the window and glaring out. He was around her age and wearing casual Saiyan clothing, his hair a wild shock of spikes, his hands in his pockets. His skin tone was a sun kissed bronze, and he had chiseled, sharp features that made him look predacious.  _Damn_. He was _handsome_ , incredibly so, despite his short stature.

“I thought the same. I... I didn't even hear you come in.” She said softly, and he glanced at her for a fleeting moment, his black eyes piercing, before turning back to the star freckled void. She took his failure to reply as an abrupt close to the conversation and looked back down awkwardly, trying to continue reading. However, It wasn't long before he spoke up, interrupting her again.

“Were you not welcome at the _festivity_?” He asked, giving her a side eye. She was surprised at how well he spoke the universal language, and it piqued her interest in him. Not many Saiyans' were fluent, but his pronunciation and accent were impeccable. It was as if he were raised outside of Saiyan society.

“Oh, I guess I was welcome enough.” She answered sullenly, giving him a sad smile.

“Well, I don’t care much for that sort of…shit," He answered taking a seat on the other side of the reading area, specifically not making eye contact with her “I come here because it’s usually empty. No one bothers me. Probably because half of the morons on here never learned how to read. So, this my favorite place on the ship.”

Bulma felt awkward, since technically she would be the someone here to bother him, but she didn’t feel any true condescension on his part.

“It’s the first time I’ve been in here, it’s quite an impressive library.” She smiled, holding her place in the book with her finger.

"A library in a ship full of Saiyans. It's like a bad joke. _Tch_." He mumbled, leaning on his arm and glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. 

"What does that mean? Why do _you_ think there's a library here?" She grinned, and he sighed.

"I think it's because the king likes to read from time to time, most Saiyans' don't give a shit." He answered, waving his hand dismissively. She gave him a questioning look before checking the time on her handheld, which had been laying on the end table to her left. She was shocked to see that it was nearly midnight, meaning she had been in the library for almost three hours.

“Oh I’ve got to get up early for duty tomorrow, I totally lost track of the time.” She said, standing up to take the book back to its shelf. “I guess you’ll get your empty library after all. Have a good night!”

She smiled, and he nodded to her in silent dismissal.

-

The next day was a demanding, hectic day where everyone’s nerves were on edge and tempers were short. Bulma had already gotten into a spat with one of her subordinates who didn’t take kindly to taking orders from an alien. By the time the kings speech was to happen she was in a terrible mood and ready for the battle to be over. She attended, however, since she was still curious to see the king for the first time.

The entire population on the ship mustered into the great hall, a colossal room dripping in platinum and rubies and covered in fine banners bearing the royal crest. The room was so large that it was a shock that it could possibly be on the inside of a spaceship.

Bulma and Yama made their way to a spot that allowed her to see above the heads in front of her, and each crossed their arms, waiting as the crowd poured in. After nearly ten minutes a dead silence came across the room and Bulma strained to see behind herself as the procession started. A male and female general in full armor took the front to clear the way; a younger man with a spiky shock of hair and the finest armor she had ever seen followed them. Her eyes widened as she realized she had seen this man only the night before, the Saiyan in the library.

Bulma stood mortified, her heart sinking into her stomach as she watched him pass. She felt like he had shot her a glance from the corner of his eye before looking forward, stoically progressing to the pillars at the back of the room. Her mind raced, she hadn’t known he was the damn king or she would have shown him due respect the night before… _what if he was angry? He didn’t act like he minded…but…_

“Yama I saw him last night in the library. I didn’t know he was the king!” Bulma hissed and Yama stared at her with widened her eyes.

“Are you kidding?”

“NO. It was him, he just came in by himself and... stared out the window. But he was in regular clothes, I didn’t know!” Bulma made a face and Yama gave her an uncertain smile.

The young king made his way to the front of the hall, standing at the top of the steps between two dark pillars. He crossed his arms and took a deep breath as the rest of his generals flanked him. Bulma watched as he spoke in Saiyan, the odd, beautifully articulated language rolled off his tongue, but she could only pick up a few words here and there. _(Gai)_ battle _… (palaibra)_ pride _…(vaeurka)_ destruction _…_

The speech lasted nearly ten minutes and at its finish, the hall erupted in cheers. Bulma clapped despite not knowing what the hell was said, watching in a surreal haze as the king exited through the back of the room. She soon followed the throng of people on their way out, her mind still trying to grasp the fact that she had been alone in the same room with the king of all the Saiyans without even realizing it.

She eventually made it back to her dorm, which was blessedly empty. She peeled off her work clothes, took a quick shower and then sat at the foot of her bed in the still, cool darkness. The battle was so close now, and although she had been on ships during battle before, this one made her more anxious than ever.

-

The battle started like a fever dream, Bulma worked in what felt like slow motion as the ship was slammed by enemy fire. From the cockpit she shouted commands to her mechanics as the blasts shook the ship, ordering them to the areas hit. Certain sections of the ship automatically sealed when they took damage, but the engines and cooling tubes were the main priority to keep the vessel stable.

She glanced out the window at the small ally ships, plentiful as a swarm of bees, surrounded the enemy vessel. The _Palaibra_ readied her own attack, sapping enormous quantities of energy from the system as it powered up to blast huge amounts of cannon energy at the opponent. She ship rattled as the cannons were ejected, and bulma grabbed onto the wall to keep from falling.

She tapped the communicator at her ear and gave the command to speak to all her crew mates.

“Status report! How much damage in sector 4, sector 6?” She called, waiting with bated breath for an answer.

“Severe structural damage on 4 but the engine was spared. The cooling pipes were destroyed however.” She sighed heavily, waiting for news on sector 6.

“Sector 6 took skirting damage, very minimal.” It was Yama. _Some good news._

“I will reroute the cooling system from sector 4 and close off any open valves. It is essential that we keep the cooling system going to the engines and I need you all to handle…” Bulma trailed as the ship rumbled again, but with less impact. Nothing immediately came up on the screen so she ignored it.

“Closing valves to 4, get the backups going immediately.” Bulma finished as she tapped the code into the computer.

She looked back out to the battle outside the window, waiting for another large attack. The Saiyans had surprisingly managed to scramble the enemy system and lift the hatch to gain entry; swarms of ships flew in before the hatch started to close back up, but it seemed that it was hindered on something and wouldn’t shut completely. Bulma assumed a small ship had gotten stuck between the hydraulics, preventing it from closing correctly.

Before she could gather what happened, another huge cannon blast hit the _Palaibra_. She fell to the floor, hitting the back of her head in the process. She stood up unsteadily, pain coursing through her skull, dizzy but functioning. She stumbled back to the control panel, finding that sector 7 had been hit according to the computer. All sections losing oxygen were automatically sealed, but she ordered the crew at sector 6 to report to the area hit- but after multiple attempts she received no conformation. _Bad...this is bad._

“Yama I need you and Beeza at sector 7 immediately!” She shouted once more, but again got no answer.

"Damn it!" She shouted, hitting the console with her balled up fist and her eyes filled with tears. She could only hope that the members of her crew hadn’t been killed in the blast; they were near sector 7 when the ship was hit, and silence was _never_ a good sign.

-

Vegeta was entirely consumed with rage. He entered the war room of the wounded _Palaibra_ furiously, glowing white hot with ki, his hair a pale yellow flame. He looked out the window at the enemy ship, now with a huge hole blown out of it from his incredible ki blast. His generals stood to the side, arms behind their backs and heads down.

“He’s a coward! A fucking coward!” Vegeta roared, pacing back and forth in front of the huge window overlooking the destroyed enemy vessel. He came to the holograph console in the middle of the room and smashed it effortlessly, putting his head in his hands and dropping his energy. His hair flashed glossy black, his eyes again dark and brooding as he glared up at his generals.

“I need you all to leave.” He barked, sitting beside the broken console exhaustedly, the enemy’s blood staining his armor and skin in a gory spray. He had expended a tremendous amount of energy on that ship but king Cold _wasn’t even_ _there_. It wasn’t clear if he had escaped or if he just wasn’t on the ship to begin with. It could have just been a ruse to get the bulk of the force off of the planet...

Visions of the capital being destroyed haunted his thoughts, and he felt like crying for the first time since he was a child being beaten mercilessly by Frieza. The burden of responsibility came crashing down on his shoulders, and he cradled his head in his gloved hands.  _How could he fail his people, his entire planet this badly…_

He leaned back against the podium for what seemed like hours, staring out the oversized window at the void of space in silence, eventually falling into a fretful, uneasy sleep

-

Bulma was ecstatic to find out that her crewmembers hadn’t perished in the battle the previous day. Yama had dropped the communicator during the explosion on sector 7, causing it to break, but she and Beeza reported back to Bulma soon after the combat ended. While the ship had moderate damage overall, she thought that the situation could have been _much_ more dire as she worked on rerouting wires.

She sat in the floor of the sector 7 hall during her break, taking a big swig from her water bottle when she got a call on her communicator. She tapped the button on the device at her ear and made a face as she listened to the report. _A holograph console had been badly damaged in the war room…_

She knew she could send one of her crewmembers to take care of the situation, but she was curious as to what actually happened and decided to go inspect the damage herself. She took the elevator up to the top floor on the _Palaibra_ to visit the war room that she hadn’t yet seen.

Bulma walked into the large room, her steps echoing as she carried her tool bag into the stark, sterile chamber. The floor was dark grey tile, the walls white aside from the large window to the rear and all the furniture was simple and unadorned. Two long tables sat side-by-side, chairs tucked up under them neatly; the room was totally opposite of the great hall that was dripping in décor and splendidness.

She glanced toward the console area where the machine would normally project maps, coordinates and blueprints holographically above the war council. Now it lay in pieces, completely shattered. Bulma stood above it making a face. _They would be better off just buying a new machine…_

The woman sighed and sat down cross-legged on the tile. She gathered the pieces up in the salvage pile and scratched her head, rummaging through the mess. Surprisingly the lens area was still intact, which was a relief since she had no way to replace it while on the ship.

Bulma went to work reassembling the machine, she placed her goggles over her eyes and soldered the wires into their correct ports, doing tedious work with the core elements and replacing some of the chips in which she had on hand. She hummed a tune to herself as she handled the tiny fuses when a voice startled her, a familiar voice speaking in the Saiyan tongue…

“We have to get them into…” Vegeta trailed as he entered the war room and spotted Bulma. Two of the generals with him stopped and stared at the alien woman sitting cross-legged on the floor among the wires and tools. Bulma stared at them in horror as she pulled her goggles over her hair and stood up, bowing awkwardly.

“My king.” She squeaked, dusting off her uniform. Vegeta raised an eyebrow, motioning for the generals to leave him.

“We’ll talk about this later,” He called after them, walking toward Bulma with his hands clasped behind his back, “I see you’re cleaning up my mess.”

“Yes, yeah just a part of the job,” She stammered, giving him a worried smile, “I guess I should have taken this out of here, I’m sorry to interrupt your, ugh, _war room_ time.”

Vegeta leaned his back against the wall nearest to Bulma, crossing his arms over his cleaned up armor. His rubies and platinum gleamed in the artificial light and Bulma swallowed. _He really was a_ very _handsome man…_

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged, “You can continue working.”

“Oh, of course.” Bulma sat back down awkwardly on her knees, her hands shaking slightly as she took up the fuses that she had dropped upon his arrival. _Why is he standing here watching me like this?_

“If you can’t fix the damn thing don’t worry about it. We really don’t need it before we return to the planet.” He said distantly, staring out the window as he was wont to do. Bulma looked up at him with surprise. She was intrigued as to why he was still there, talking to an alien woman sitting on the floor like a kid and fixing a broken holograph projector.

“Well, it’s a real job but I think I can handle it. The ship is stable for now so its not a problem... My king.”

He continuing to stare into the abyss.

“You weren't so nervous the other night in the library. What’s your story, woman?” He asked, lowering himself to sitting against the back of the wall and leaning with one arm on his knee. He swayed his tail as she looked over at him wide eyed.

“Well, honestly I didn't know you were the king...then. And it’s not really a good story my king… I just, I come from a planet called Earth that was sacked by the WTO…” She trailed, looking at him for signs of agitation. He gave her only a blank look and motioned for her to keep on going.

“I think I was the only human to escape, as far as I know anyway. I was a mechanic on a trade ship for around three years, then worked for the Saiyan army as a mechanic for the last two,” She shrugged nervously “I guess that’s it, really.”

“Why did you leave your job on the trade ship?” He asked.

“Well, to be honest he was a smuggler and got taken to prison for that offense,” She gave him a sad smile and motioned to the whole of the ship, “So after that I made a career and a life here.”

“Are you being treated well by my people?” He asked her without directly looking at her, and she glanced down.

“Yes, well…. to be honest I know I’ll never fit in as one of you but for the most part yes.” She hesitated and he nodded, still looking away as if he we’re contemplating the universe. He sat a moment longer and then stood, stretching as he made his way out of the room.

“Do you want to meet me in my chambers tonight... for wine?” He asked somewhat awkwardly, standing in the door and swaying his tail. She stared at him in shock.

“Yes.” She answered promptly and he turned to leave without another word. Her heart beat rapidly in a giddy excitement and she dropped the fuses yet again. _I can’t believe this is happening…_

 


	7. A Night with the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma meets the king in his chambers for a spirited tryst, but never expects to see him again after that. However, Vegeta has the alien woman on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, my friends. There is a lot of x-rated Vegebul smut in this chapter! You have been warned ;)
> 
> *Edited 12/16/17

After Bulma got off duty she ran to her dorm to shower, put on makeup, finally staring at herself in the mirror from all angles. She donned the only elegant dress she had packed away in the emergency capsule wardrobe, a floor-length, sleeveless Saiyan dress that wrapped around the neck as a braded halter. The gauzy fabric billowed below the breasts and then tied around the waist to flaunt her figure.

She rummaged through her jewelry box and found a silver choker spangled with white topaz and snapped it around her neck. She swapped her blue earrings for a pair that matched the choker and threw on a pair of white heels that she had paired with the dress perfectly. She started to dab on her favorite perfume when two of her dorm mates entered the room, whistling at her as they set their packs down on their respective beds. They were bruised up from the battle the previous day, but in good spirits otherwise.

“Does Bulma have a hot date tonight?” Ginre inquired sneakily and Bulma gave her a grin.

“Maybe.”

“Oh who is he? I _hope_ we know him!” Turnit asked as she stretched out on her bed. Bulma gave her a sly look. _Oh, oh you know him all right._

“Oh you probably wouldn’t know him, he’s a maintenance guy.” She smiled and waved at them like it was no big deal.

“A maintenance worker? Huh.” Ginre said stumped.

“And you’re going all out to dress like that?” Turnit asked, side eyeing Bulma and then Ginre. “I think you’re telling a little lie!”

“Not at all! But really what would it matter if he was the king or a maintenance guy? Its still a date.” She said matter-of-factly, dabbing perfume on her wrists delicately and then grabbing her purse. The Saiyan women gave each other perplexed looks and glared at Bulma as she headed out the door with a wave.

-

Vegeta swirled his wine in the silence of his extravagant chamber. The window to space was covered with a hologram depicting a hyper realistic night scene from the northern regions of his home planet, complete with swaying trees, lantern flies and clouds that blew by.

He yawned as he turned the page of the book he was reading, a pastime he rarely ever had time for. Vegeta was more than glad to be away from the responsibility of being king for the night. All reports from the planet were positive, and they would be home the following morning, letting him relish a bit of freedom for the evening.

He had changed into a collared long sleeve grey shirt held at the waist with a black embroidered waist sash and black pants. His boots were of course white, as they had been in fashion for the past twenty years or so. He kicked them up onto the fine ebony wood table in front him, leaning in further to the plush chair, holding the book out at an odd angle as he tried to get comfortable.

He began to wonder if the alien woman would actually show up, when he heard an exchange of voices outside the door. He narrowed his eyes as he stood, walking over to the door and listening raptly.

“Oh I don’t think so _alien_. No one is permitted to…” The guard trailed as Vegeta pressed the button and the door slid open. He glared up dangerously at the taller guard, tapping his fingers on the doorway irately.

“I told you I would have company tonight Raditz. Have you already forgotten that, you moron?” Vegeta growled and Raditz gave him a reproachful look.

“I’m sorry my king, I-I just thought it would be a Sai…”

“Shut. _Up_.” Vegeta hissed, and then looked over to the woman standing in front of the door. He was taken aback; she was absolutely stunning, her brilliant hair shimmering, and her smell… _intoxicating_.

“Come in.” He said to her, standing out of the doorway and motioning for her to enter. As she passed him he looked back to give Raditz a death stare before pushing the button to close the door.

-

“Those _idiot_ guards are just for show. Ah, ugh, have a seat.” He said awkwardly, motioning to the plush furniture in the conversation area. Bulma looked around the lavish room in awe, taking in the beautiful hologram, the fine furniture and decor. She glanced at the huge bed in the opposite room and swallowed, wondering if she would end up in it with the king of all Saiyans soon. After all, what else would he want with her other than to bed her? _But admittedly, a one-night stand with a king was definitely on her bucket list._

Bulma sat on the end of the couch and crossed her legs as the king poured her a glass of blood red wine in strained silence; she was surprised he didn’t have servants in here to do such menial tasks…

“Your chamber is very beautiful my king.” She said locking her eyes with his as he poured. She picked up her glass and took a sip as he reoccupied his spot on the armchair. He took a swig of his own wine, motioning around the room with his free hand.

“I guess it’s one of the perks of being king.” He said earnestly, and she wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a joke or not. She gave him a look and he grinned slightly, sitting back in his chair and swaying his tail.

“That, and beautiful women?” She shot him a coquettish smile as she took another long sip of the delicious wine.

“And that, yes,” He agreed with a blank face, holding his glass on the armrest “I guess there’s no need to introduce myself to _you_ , but I would like for you to introduce yourself to me.”

Bulma’s eyes widened as she realized that she hadn’t even given him her name yet.

“Oh I’m sorry my king! My name is Bulma.” She answered coquettishly, putting her hand to her chest in a dramatic gesture. He watched her in fascination, leaning his head on one hand and taking her in before once again averting his eyes. _What a gorgeous woman, something about her… it’s just so damn intoxicating…_

-

The two drank and chatted awkwardly for a short while before Vegeta refilled his and her empty wine glasses, crossing his leg over his knee and leaning on the armrest. He was certainly not one to prattle, and had become weary of the idle chitchat. It was time to cut to the chase.

“Well Bulma, let me be blunt with you. I have never been with an alien woman before.” He shrugged, his cheeks blushing slightly before he took a long swig. He swallowed, locking his dark eyes with her blue ones. She narrowed her own seductively; giving him the most wicked smile he had ever seen on a woman.

“And who says you’re going to tonight?” She teased, taking a gulp of wine and uncrossing her legs. “What would you do if I walked out right now?”

“Oh, I would bring another woman to my bed tonight.” He sighed, a look of mock boredom on his face. He wasn't used to playing such games with a woman, _fascinating._

“You would surely be missing out,” She shrugged after him, pretending pity, “I guess since you can’t have me I might as well leave.” She crooned, leaning over to reveal a good portion of her breasts as she stood and pretended to go. He quickly decided that he liked the game.

He took a deep breath, throwing away his backwards inhibitions and give in to the chase. He was behind her in a flash, gripping her hipbones and pressing his body firmly to her backside. He snaked his tail tightly around her legs, nipping her ear as she exhaled a slight moan. His dominating touch elicited a shudder of pleasure to course through her body, and her mewling urged him on yearningly.

“I said the wrong thing…” He growled in her ear before grabbing between her legs “I meant to say I would hunt you down like an animal with _his prey_.”

“Is that so.” She whispered as he ran his hand down the delicate fabric of her dress, groping between her legs and eliciting an even loud moan from her. She leaned her head back and kissed him deeply, desperately as her heart fluttered in a fit of excitement when their tongues met, hot and sweet with wine.

She felt his cock grow stiff against her backside and backed up into it harder as he unlaced the braided ribbon on the back of her neck, letting the fabric flow down to expose her breasts. Ah _her perfect pink nipples_. He reached up to grab them, pinching her knubs between his thumbs and breathing onto her neck, his excitement to take the alien woman growing with every breath.

She pulled away from him, giving him a half lidded wanton smile and grabbing his wrists to lead him to the bedroom. _If she was going to fuck the king, she was going to do it in the king’s own bed._

“Oh no you don’t, woman.” He growled as she started to pull him. She was surprised when he lifted her up by her ass effortlessly and swung her around to face him. She wrapped her legs around his taut waist as he instinctively grabbed one of her nipples between his teeth, sucking on it and making her mewl in delight.

She kissed his neck as he carried her to the bedroom, lowering her to the plush linens and untying the fabric from her waist. He pulled the rest of her dress off to expose her pale pink panties and flawless long legs, and he absolutely liked what he saw.

He stared her body up and down and unlaced his sash to remove his shirt, throwing it behind his shoulders with abandon. She sat up and rubbed on his cock through his pants as he grasped her on the back of her head with a groan of pleasure, impatient excitement pulsing through his veins with each stroke she made.

Bulma Looked up at him with longing eyes as she untied the laces on his pants, pulling them down to reveal his cock, standing at attention in front of her face. She licked her lips seductively as she grabbed the base, messaging it before she leaned in to gently lick the head, causing him to sigh deeply. He watched with heavy lids as she took his member in her mouth, teasing the head a bit before taking it in fully, the warm wet heat enveloping him in ecstasy that pulsed through his entire body. He held his hand firmly on the back of her head, grabbing her amazingly soft hair ever so slightly as she expertly sucked, licked and stroked his member.

He let her go on until he could hardly hold himself back from climaxing, pulling back from her and exposing his dick to the cold, uninviting air outside of her mouth. He kicked his pants off his ankles and quickly climbed on top of her, nuzzling his face into her neck and nipping as he pressed his cock against her panties. Bulma inhaled as he kissed her from her neck to her breasts, nipping at one and squeezing the other before planting kisses on her porcelain belly, which shivered at his surprisingly gentle touch.

The king decided that he wanted to taste her, and assumed she wouldn't have any qualms with his curiosity. He lowered himself to her hipbones, making her shudder and moan for more when he grabbed the thin string of her panties with his sharp canines, ripping it easily and doing the same to her other side, to her amusement.

She gasped as he pulled them off of her with one hand, taking no time to tease as he placed his next kiss right on her swelling bud, making her whimper from the warm, liquid heat of his tongue. He licked her softly just below her manicured curls, driving her mad with lust as she urged him on, begging for him to speed up his pace. She moaned as he pressed his lips on her clit and began to suck, finally licking harder as she melted into his mouth, grasping the covers as he pressed on. This was a sweet surprise to her, as she never expected him to go down on her... _And god, was he ever good at it..._

“Oh my king, I...I’m going to come!” She moaned after several minutes of his relentless mouth.

“Good.” He murmured, going back to work for only a few moments more before Bulma tensed, her vision going starry as she moaned, arching her back as an explosion of pleasure pulsed through her core. She panted as the wave passed over, pushing her hair out of her face and sighing in ecstasy. Clearly, she enjoyed his curiosity very much, and he enjoyed her sweet, novel taste.

He waited for her to calm before pulling himself up on her, teasing her sensitive clit with his cock and then nuzzling into her neck. She turned to kiss him when he abruptly grabbed her and rolled her over on her belly. He couldn't contain his composure anymore and placed his arm under her hips, hoisting her up effortlessly. Vegeta wasted no time as he placed his cock deep inside of her dripping wet, warm slit and pounded with abandon. She cried out as he fucked her, grabbing the linens and screaming his name into the bed. _Gods she felt incredible...  
_

He panted over her as he thrusted, and she mewled beneath him like an animal in heat. She felt amazing, tighter than anything he could ever imagine, warm and wet, her arousal smelling like the sweetest perfume to his senses. He knew that there was no way he could last long at the pace he kept, but he couldn't imagine slowing down now. No, he was going to fuck her hard and fast, as he simply needed release; he craved to spill himself into the delicate little alien woman beneath him. 

He bucked into her as he came, letting out a short groan when the ecstasy rolled through his body. Bulma turned her head, watching him as he gritted his teeth and shuddered, panting loudly with his eyes shut tight. He sighed, his heart pounding as he pulled out of her and rolled over, breathing rapidly as he lay on top of the linens. She turned and laid on her side, running her eyes over his perfectly chiseled body, his handsome features truly peaceful for the first time since she had met him.

She watched him for a short while, but felt uneasy when it had seemed that he had drifted off to sleep. _It would probably be a good idea to leave…right?_ _At least I wouldn’t have to deal with him kicking me out in the morning; I don’t think I could handle that embarrassment. But, what of it insulted him if I left? I at least need to go to the bathroom, I wonder if the toilet is platinum and encrusted with rubies too…_

She pushed herself to the side of the grossly oversized bed and stood up- when he spoke, startling her slightly.

“Where are you going?” He murmured, his eyes still closed.

“The bathroom.” She answered, as she looked around for a door.

“The door is to the left. Feel free to do _whatever_ it is you women do... afterwards.” He said nonchalantly, rolling over onto his belly. She stared at his ass for a fleeting moment, grinning to herself before entering the bathroom.

-

Bulma found herself waking up to her alarm at 6 am the next morning. She looked around drowsily as she got a grip on her surroundings- the plush linens, the high pile rugs, the ebony wood. _Holy shit this really did happen…_

She sat up and realized that the king wasn’t at her side. She grimaced as she noticed the side of the bed was made up and cold. Why the hell was he up so early?

She glanced over at the dresser and saw her dress laid out neatly on top of it, her purse sitting next the dress... _had the servants already been in_? She got out from under the warmth of the covers to fetch them, putting the damned complicated garb on before heading out into the living area to gather her shoes. She looked around for the king, but she was disappointed to find he was nowhere to be found. She made a face as she found her shoes at the door, sitting side-by-side and ready for her to slip them on.

She went to the door and did just that before taking one more glance back into the life of luxury, a room she would probably never see again. _But hey, it was fun while it lasted._ She grinned, getting ready to push the button to open the door when she remembered something important.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a pen, then glanced around the room for a scrap of paper. She found some notes written in the Saiyan language on top of the desk near the door and leafed through them until she found a page that was half empty. She scribbled a note on it hastily before leaving the kings chambers with a satisfied smile.

-

Most of the occupants had departed the morning when the _Palaibra_ had made it to the planets orbit, but Bulma and her crew would be working to get the battleship battle ready for at least a few weeks. She and Yama sat in the galley during their lunch break, enjoying the relative peace and quiet of the much less crowded ship.

“Yama, I need to tell you something.” Bulma said seriosuly, eating a piece of fruit just shipped up from the planet.

“I know, I know. You got laid last night by some maintenance guy.” She rolled her eyes playfully.

“Well. I did get laid last night,” Bulma replied after taking another bite of the fruit, “But it wasn’t exactly as I said.”

“Go on.” Yama said, stalling on her own large, Saiyan sized lunch.

“Well. I might have….well, been with king Vegeta last night.” Bulma said, looking at Yama from the side of her eyes.

“You’re kidding right?” Yama exclaimed, her face not quite revealing the entirety of her shock.

“No. I am not.”

“By the _gods_ …”

“Yeah. Don’t say a word to anyone.”

The two women stared at each other for a short time before cracking up with laughter.

“I just, I can’t wrap my head around this!” Yama said still laughing.

“You and me both.” Bulma giggled.

“So, was it…good?”

“ _Incredible._ Best night of my life.” Bulma winked, finishing up the fruit.

“I had always heard he only took noble women to his bed.” Yama shook her head in total disbelief.

“Well, I’m not a noble or even a Saiyan so I guess he wanted to try something exotic. He was gone this morning, I got up at six and found my dress and shoes were laid out,” She shrugged, nibbling on a piece of bread, “I knew it would only be a one time thing, but it was _totally_ worth it.”

“I mean yeah, who gets the chance to fuck the _king_?” Yama supposed, and the two women laughed hysterically.

-

Several days had passed since Vegeta’s _lively_ encounter with the alien woman. He found that his mind wondered to their casual tryst all too often in the days following. _Her seductiveness, that amazing body, her intoxicating smell…_ And she was intelligent to boot, a quality he greatly admired.

He thought back to when he entered the chambers on the ship to find her note scrawled out on official documents, and couldn’t help but laugh.

 

_You owe me some new PANTIES!!!_

Those were the only words, written in the universal script. _Insolent woman._

He now stood in his chambers in the capital, reading a newly arrived report when he heard a tap on the door. He sighed and commanded for the caller to enter.

“Oh my king, I haven’t seen you in such a long while!” Leakeh smiled as she opened the chamber door. He looked up from his tablet for a moment, giving her a blank glance before looking back down.

“Hello Leakeh.”

“Are you busy my king?” She asked, her gauzy thin dress swaying as she made her way towards him. He looked back up as she grabbed onto his bicep, pushing her full breasts against his arm flirtatiously. She reached up to kiss him, and he started to reciprocate when the thought of that _damned_ alien woman doing the same crossed his mind.

“I don’t have time for this right now Leakeh.” He mumbled as he turned his face away from her and back to his report. She stared at him with a hint of surprise and then released his arm sullenly.

“I guess you had a _good time_ while you were gone.” She said sourly as she stood with her arms on her hips. Vegeta looked up at her incredulously and threw his hand up.

“Yes, actually I _did_.” He replied and she scowled, 

"Who was it? Rada? Some other slut?" She hissed, and he narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Get the fuck out of here." He growled, and she grit her teeth at him before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

_Now **that** is truly an insolent woman…_

-

Bulma retired to her dorm when her shift was over, it was now only occupied by her and Yama; a much more comfortable situation. The size of the room was small for two people and just plain overcrowded with four. She took a shower, put on an oversize T-shirt and panties, just sliding into bed when she heard a rapping at the door.

“Yamaaa, did you lose your key!” She chanted in a singsong voice, getting up and glaring out the peephole. The person standing there was definitely _not_ Yama.

“Hang on just a moment!” She called as she rummaged through the dresser for a pair of sweatpants, throwing them on and rushing back to greet the unexpected guest.

“Hey what’s up?” She inquired as she opened the door, somewhat startled to see the kings guard _, Raditz_ , from the other day.

“King Vegeta has returned to the ship and requests your company in his chambers.” He said flatly, glaring down at Bulma with mistrustful eyes. She stared up at him vacantly for a moment before bursting out in laughter, leaning against the doorframe to steady herself. Raditz gave her a look of surprise before knitting his brows again.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.” The wild maned Saiyan growled, and Bulma shook her head.

“It’s just that, I never thought…” She trailed, the fact that the king wanted to see her again started to sink in and caused her to regain her composure.

“Anyhow, tell his highness I am not fit to be seen at the moment,” She folded her arms in front of her braless chest, “I can get ready but it will take a bit.”

Raditz tapped his communicator and spoke in Saiyan while Bulma stared up at him. Raditz tapped the button once again and sighed.

“He says he will wait for you.” The large Saiyan muttered as she grinned. _Another night with the king._

“Well I need to get ready then. See you soon, _Raditz_.” She said impishly and shut the door, excited to get ready for another adventurous night.

 


	8. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta can't keep his mind (or hands) off the alien woman and visits her again on the battleship. Bulma stays in his chambers while he's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut, and then the start of a blooming Vegebul romance ;>
> 
> *edited 12-16-17

“Tell her I’ll wait.” Vegeta spoke to Raditz through the communicator he kept on his desk. He paced to his armchair, then back again to the desk, looking at that ridiculous note that she had written. It still lay on the top of the stack. He tapped his fingers on the desk, breathed in deeply and could only see _her._

He truly wanted to wait patiently for the woman, but honestly he didn’t care what she was dressed in tonight. Whatever it was it wouldn’t be on her for long anyhow. He made his way out the chamber door and down the hall as he met Raditz, who was just making his way back from her dorm.

“My king!” Raditz said with surprise and started to bow as Vegeta passed him without a word. _He was on a mission._

-

Bulma was going through her wardrobe, picking out a decent outfit when she heard a loud knock at the door. She rolled her eyes as she went to investigate, staring in shock at the king through the peephole.

“Your highness, I’m not quite ready…”

“I don’t care.”

“I do!”

“I’m the damn king, let me in.” He retorted, knitting his brows and crossing his arms. She sighed and opened the door with a scowl, wearing only her panties and an oversized t-shirt.

“ _Well_.” He said, cocking an eyebrow and looking her up and down. He could see her nipples peeking out from under the fabric, and he was more than ready to tear the shirt off of her right then and there, closed doors or not.

“Well what? I haven’t had time to put on anything decent your _highness_.” She said irritably, crossing her arms over her breasts. He gave her a grin and closed the door behind himself as he entered. _Insolent woman!_

“Doesn’t matter,” He murmured in her ear as he embraced her, desperately feeling the curves of her body under his hands, making his mind hazy with lust. _A feeling he had been longing for since their first encounter,_ _craving her body like a drug_ “It’s just going to come off anyway.”

Despite herself, she smiled before he kissed her dominantly, grabbing her hips and backing her up to the wall. He smelled amazing, a musky, masculine scent with undertones of soap, and her heart skipped a beat when he grabbed her wrists, holding them up against the cool vertical surface. He pressed his restrained cock against her panties and eliciting a moan from her, and he breathed deeply of her own honey sweet scent, the scent that he couldn't seem to air out of his mind since first breathing her in. 

“My king, we can’t do this here…” She murmured in his ear, her lips tracing his lobe before she nipped it with some force. Excitement coursed through his blood with the gesture, and he leaned into her own ear, pressing harder on her wrists as she mewled. 

“Yes we can.”

“My roommate will be back anytime, so we better make it quick.” She breathed as he let her wrists loose, pulling his shirt off and throwing it to the floor. Again, he was all angles and quite stunning underneath the fabric, and she bit her lower lip when he ran his hands underneath her tee. _He surely wasn't taking his time._

“Oh, I can make it quick.” He growled, fully intending to take her in a maelstrom, desperate to experience her once again. He lifted her shirt off hastily, followed by ripping her panties off effortlessly with two fingers and weak ki. She squealed and he grinned toothily, unlacing his pants and freeing his erection. She was fascinated by his haste, and his desperate need for her. She had never experienced anyone that had ever wanted her so badly in her life, and it was flattering- and _incredibly_ sexy.

She looked down with heavy lids as he took his stiff cock in his hand, pressing the head against her clit and messaging it to her satisfaction. She groaned, rolling her head back against the wall and spreading her legs slightly to increase the sensation, and he had to restrain himself until she was ready for him.

To his relief, it didn't take long before Bulma was slick with desire, and she lifted her leg to allow him better access. He rubbed his cock through her wetness and easily guided it into her slit with a groan, the pleasure rolling through his body as he felt her liquid warmth envelope his length. Her breath hitched as he entered her, and she exhaled deeply as he began to thrust.

The king proceeded to pound into her at a dogged pace, lifting her up by her ass as she wrapped her legs around him and grabbed his hair by the nape. He laced his tail around her leg as she panted and moaned, grabbing onto his shoulders and pressing her nails deeply into his skin, unthinking in her ecstasy. He enjoyed the rush of pain with his pleasure, and he took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking it enthusiastically. She squeezed herself around him, knowing that her climax was coming to a head, and it wasn't long before she threw her head back when an intense wave of pleasure pulsed from her core, sending her over the edge. Her climax paralyzed her body while his dick continuously hit her G-spot, and she grabbed onto his shoulders in rapture.

“My king!” She gasped as the ecstasy rippled through her in waves, fading away and leaving her dazed, a thin sheen of sweat sparking on her flushed face. She let go of one of his shoulders and gripped his hair as he continued rutting into her without tire, placing his mouth on hers desperately and motivated by her intense orgasm. Their teeth clicked together before their tongues found their way into each other’s mouth for a long, desperate kiss. She was the most amazing woman he had ever been with, and he panted into her hair as sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Gods damn.” He husked, slowing his thrusts and pulling away from her reddened lips with a heavy lidded stare. He watched her as she licked her lips, showing him a small smile before she put her mouth to his ear.

“You are _amazing_.” She breathed, nibbling on his lobe as he picked up the pace once again, everything about her driving him absolutely _wild_ ; it only took him a short time before he achieved his own climax.

“Fuck!” He growled as he came, tensing his whole body and tightening his tails grip on her leg as the waves of ecstasy burst through his core, pleasure radiating as his seed spilled deeply into her. He breathed heavily, loosening his grip on her as the climax subsided, his body slick with sweat as Bulma sucked on his bottom lip gently. He glanced at her with dark eyes and turned abruptly, dropping her into the bed behind them, already wanting to take her _again_.

“Hey Bulma you….” The door opened and Yama stalled, staring slack jawed as her king stood over bulma, his naked back to her and swaying his tail in agitation. He looked over his shoulder with a scowl and Bulma screeched.

“I’m so sorry Yama!” She called, trying to cover her breasts as Yama backed out the door without a word.

“I told you!” Bulma exclaimed. _Poor Yama…_

-

Bulma laid in her small bed after she cleaned up, again wearing her T-shirt and a _new_ pair of panties. Vegeta lay on his side in the bed previously occupied by Turnit, his head propped up by his hand and his black pants laced back up.

“To be honest I thought I’d never see you again. Well, intimately.” She admitted, laying on her belly and looking at him from her pillow.

“The universe is a mysterious place.” He replied with a shrug. She rolled her eyes and then gave him a questioning look.

“Why though? Why did you come all the way back to the _Palaibra_ to...um, meet me?” She asked bluntly, hugging her pillow. He made a face and laid on his back.

“I don’t know.” He lied, flicking his tail. He couldn't just tell her it was because he couldn't stop thinking about her, about her body...and a weird, slightly disturbing obsession with seeing her again.

Bulma stared at him blankly as he glared at the ceiling. She knitted her eyebrows together.

“You are full of shit.” She declared and he laughed dryly. _She was fearless and he loved it._

“You accuse the king of Saiyans of being _full of shit_?” He said, giving her a dark look as he put his arms behind his head.

“Yes, because you _had_ a reason.” She sat up in her bed, leaning on her arm.

“I’m the king, I don’t need a reason to do anything. I just do what I want,” He sighed, taking a good look around the room, “These dorms are shitty.”

“Well, yeah they are. Especially when there are four people in here.” She replied, not pushing the matter of his visit any further. She could tell he was avoiding it and didn’t want to harass him any more about the subject.

“You are the head mechanic right? You should be in a better room.” He glanced over at her and she smiled.

“I won’t be on the ship too much longer…. Besides, I thought the lowliest soldier outranked the most elevated mechanic right?” She laughed as he rolled his eyes.

“Woman, I _do_ _not_ give a shit about that. I want you in a better room.”

“I won’t complain.”

“You’re staying in my chambers while you’re here. I have to go back to the capital so it will be empty anyhow. I’ll leave a servant to take care of whatever you need.” He said nonchalantly. _He just couldn’t bear the thought of such a brilliant woman in such a shitty room…_

Bulma stared at him in shock; she could hardly believe what she was hearing.

“I-I'm flattered...but I couldn’t impose like that…” She trailed, her big blue eyes wide and her heart beating rapidly. _That is kind of a big deal…_

“No. You’re going to stay there. I’ll make sure everyone knows you get clearance and if anyone gives you trouble, let me know, and I’ll rip their fucking heads off.” He yawned.

Bulma started to retort when there was a feeble knock at the door.

“Come in Yama.” Bulma shouted and Yama opened the door slowly, shocked again to see the king _still there,_ shirtless and laying on one of the dorm beds.

“My king, I can leave.” She said with a bow and he threw his hand up.

“No need, I’m heading back to the capital tonight.” He stood and stretched his impressive muscles to Bulma's delight, gathering his shirt off the floor and pulling it over his head. _He was ready for another, more deliberate round with her...Damn that roommate.  
_

“Contact me when you return to the planet.” He locked eyes with Bulma for just a moment before he turned and left without another word.

-

Vegeta sprawled out on the seat in the small private ship as it made its way to the planet; Raditz sat on the opposite side, silent and brooding. Vegeta wanted to stay and talk to Bulma, a true rarity for him as he normally preferred being solitary in his free time. _People were just so tedious._

But he found Bulma’s presence comforting in an _odd_ fashion, one he didn’t much care for but he couldn’t help. From the first time he saw her he had felt a deep partiality for the woman in a way he had never felt for anyone else. He didn’t just want to fuck her and go about his business like normal, _although that was definitely a perk_ , but he actually wanted to learn more about her, be with her. _What’s wrong with me?…_

“You know these trysts with the alien woman are frowned upon, my king.” Raditz blurted, leaning on his arm. Vegeta looked up from his deep thoughts and _could not believe_ what he was hearing.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now Raditz? You seriously have the balls to say that to _my face_?” Vegeta barked, gritting his teeth at Raditz dangerously.

“I’m just letting you know, your highness. People have been talking about it.” He replied, backing off some.

“Do you really think I give a shit what people think about what I do _or_   who I fuck in my spare time? Plus, how would anyone else know about it? You and Asgus were the only two that saw her come to my chambers and he’s not one to open his trap!” Vegeta spat, the hairs on his neck and tail standing up in rage. Raditz stared wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry my king, I...I just thought you should know.” He said ruefully, realizing he had backed himself into a corner.

“Raditz I will fucking end you _right here_. Your life is meaningless to me.” Vegeta growled, looking away from the subordinate and trying to calm himself before he actually did slaughter the man.

“I tr..” Raditz started and Vegeta shot him a look of pure hatred.

“Shut. UP!”

 -

“Yama I’m so sorry you walked in to that, he was just… _so persistent_.”

“Oh, no its okay. He _is_ the king.” She laughed fretfully as she lay in her own bed.

“I know but I hate to make you feel uncomfortable.” Bulma apologized sincerely.

“Its okay really!” Yama said before shooting Bulma a sly look, “I see that your night with the king obviously wasn’t just a one night thing though.”

“Oh god I know, I was shocked…” Bulma trailed as she got under the blankets, “I was absolutely floored. His guard came to call on me, and when I couldn’t get ready in a flash the king was down here…and then things _escalated_. Fast.”

“I just can’t believe this, I mean, would you have ever beleived this?.” She asked in astoundment, and Bulma laughed.

“ _Never_. He told me to stay in his chambers Yama…what do you think that could mean?” Bulma asked, yawning exhaustedly. Yama shook her head slowly and stared vacantly.

“I don’t know Bulma, that’s kind of a big deal.”

“I know, that's exactly what I thought! I guess I’ll pack my things tomorrow and go. I wouldn’t want him to know I didn’t stay. And what if he comes back for a visit?” Bulma smiled, reaching up to turn the lamp off above her bed, “Goodnight.”

Bulma admitted to herself that she _wanted_ to stay in his chambers; there was not doubt about it. It reminded her of the lavishness of her home on Earth so many years ago, but also admitted that she wanted to be there mostly because it embodied _him_.

-

For the next six days Bulma worked with her crew as well and many various laborers to get the _Palaibra_ back to tip top shape. Each night she would retire to the royal quarters, lounging blissfully in the plush linens, taking long, soaking baths in an enormous tub all while surrounded by absolute luxury. She spent her free time by the holographic window, reading countless books she borrowed from the library while listening to instrumental music from all over the universe.

The servant cleaned her room in the days and brought her food in the evenings, and Bulma slowly got the woman to talk

  
“And your name is Broca, right?” Bulma asked as the servant sat her plate down on the table in the small dining area opposite of the conversation room. The woman nodded and filled a cup with wine.

“So, how long have you worked for the king?”

“For around eight months.” She answered, still averting her eyes from Bulma’s.

“Huh, okay. Well, has the king had, _well_ you know….a lot of women in that time?” Bulma asked, genuinely curious as she took a sip of her wine.

“That’s not something I should be talking about.” Broca answered, a hint of a smile on her face as she laid the condiments out.

“Well, can you tell me if he’s ever done _this_ for any other women? Let them stay here?” Bulma motioned around the chambers.

“ _No_ , he hasn’t.” The girl met her eyes and Bulma noticed a bit of irritation. Bulma narrowed her eyes slightly.

“What did I say?”

“Oh its nothing. Just that…” She trailed.

“Go on.”

“I am just surprised our king has taken a liking to a _non Saiyan_ woman, no _noble_ name _or_ …” She trailed, taking the wine goblet to her chest.

“Oh, yeah. I know.” Bulma leaned on one arm, staring solemnly at the woman who was not much younger than her.

“I should depart and let you eat your meal before it gets cold.” Broca said, turning to leave. Bulma stared after her.

“You don’t have to go, you can stay and talk to me!” she smiled sincerely.

“I’ll be outside, just summon me if you need anything.” The servant replied and departed the chamber. Bulma sighed as she poked at her food. The woman was either jealous…or ashamed that her king was sleeping with an alien _peasant_.

-

“Yama, come eat dinner with me tonight, _please_.” Bulma pleaded to the freckled Saiyan. Yama smiled up at her as she pulled her head out of a hole in the wall where she was working.

“Bulma, I just… I would feel so odd being in the king’s chambers. It’s just that I would feel so disrespectful.” Bulma sighed. She knew that to a good number of the Saiyans, the king was elevated to an almost godlike level. Especially after he achieved the ascended Saiyan transformation, _whatever that meant_.

“Please Yama, the serving girl doesn’t like me I think she’s jealous… Or ashamed of me.” Bulma gave her a look as Yama removed her goggles.

“Ashamed of you?”

“Well that's kind of the vibe I got. Like she’s mad that I’ve slept with the king. She made a point to mention that I’m not a _Saiyan_ , or a _noble_. Like I was below her or something.”

“Oh, what a bitch,” Yama answered, “For one, the king _chose_ you. He can do whatever he wants, he’s the king and she’s _just_ a serving girl.”

“Yeah.” Bulma replied, noting the classism in Yama’s voice. The Saiyan culture placed great emphasis on ones rank in society, and all the prejudice that came with it unfortunately.

“Well, will you still come up there to eat tonight?”

“Ah gods Bulma, why don’t you come to the mess hall and eat with me?” Yama complained as she put her goggles back on to continue the repairs. Bulma assumed it would be for the best since she wanted little to do with the disgruntled servant and her emotionless service.

“Ok. We’ll go to the mess hall after work then.” Bulma replied solemnly, putting her own goggles back on and returning to her duty with a sigh.

-

It took another three days to repair the _Palaibra_ fully, and on the last day Bulma and her crew worked a half shift before boarding a shuttle back to the planet. Bulma and Yama sat side by side as they made their descent.

“I just can’t wait to feel the sun again.” Yama sighed dreamily and Bulma agreed. It had been far too long on that battleship for her liking, regardless of her fine accommodations.

“I’m going to spend all day outside,” Bulma replied as she held the handle above her head, “Hopefully the weather is nice.”

“Its not monsoon season so it’ll be just fine.” Yama assured, swaying her tail as the ship docked.

“Yama, it has been such a pleasure working with you and gaining a new friend.” Bulma smiled as she stood, hugging the taller Saiyan warmly.

“I feel the same!” Yama replied while queuing up to depart the shuttle, “We have to keep in touch.”

“Absolutely, I have your contact in my handheld. We’ll go out to eat this week.”

“And you have to tell me, _you know_ , how your date goes.” Yama winked and Bulma grinned.

“If he still wants have _said_ date.” She said shrugging.

“He wouldn’t have had you kept in his chambers if he wasn’t interested in more.” Yama answered matter-of-factly, a fact that Bulma couldn’t deny.

The two women walked together out of the port, and then departed their separate ways once out on the street. Bulma hailed a car back to her apartment, and finally entered to the stale air of a closed up room.

She threw her bag down and immediately went to opening all the windows, letting the cool evening air circulate through the residence. She stripped off her work uniform as she made her way to the bathroom, throwing her panties and bra in a pile at the door.

“I guess I need to contact Vegeta.” She said to herself as she entered the shower, remembering with distaste that the last time she was in there, it was with Caulitz.

-

Vegeta stood on the balcony, leaning on the banister and watching the bloody sun set behind the dunes, the wind whipping through his hair as he glared. He was shirtless, wearing only his loose training pants from an earlier session in the training room.

He needed the peace now to recover from a hellacious week of stress and irritation. Dealing with matters of security and war had driven him up the wall, especially since they had not been able to track the location of king Cold. The coward had taken off as soon as the ship was assaulted. He had left his entire crew to fight and die in the Saiyan invasion, saving his sorry ass from the ascended king.

Vegeta watched the sky turn from brilliant orange to a bruised purple and red as the night fell upon the capital of Vegeta. The stars began to appear, millions and millions of suns from systems unfathomable. He sat on the bench, breathing in the cool air of the night, closing his eyes in meditation. He was at peace for a matter of moments when his handheld went blaring off inside the chamber.

“Gods damn it!” He growled, rising to see whom in the twenty eight hells of Afalfet was calling on him after hours… _and on his handheld_. He picked the device up and blinked, recognizing the contact immediately. He sat at his desk and tapped the accept button on the screen.

“Greetings.” He stated emotionlessly, leaning on the desk and listening for her reply, for _her voice_

“Hello my king, I have returned to the capital, and, as commanded have contacted you.” Bulma replied playfully, he could hear the smile in her voice. He grinned to himself, closing his eyes and vividly recalling her scent, her hair, her eyes…

“Welcome back, did you find your stay satisfactory?”

“I did! I took long baths, caught up on a bit Saiyan history, slept like a….”

“Saiyan history?” He interrupted, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes, actually it was the book I had started when we first met in the library.”

He remembered the night before the battle like a bizarre fever dream.

“ _I see_. Well, I’m glad you enjoyed your stay and the study of our glorious history. I’m surprised you even called on me again after that.” He sighed and she laughed. It _was_ a _truly_ bloody history… oh and the _people_ he had killed, had _loved_ killing. He immediately wondered if she knew any of that? _Surely not._ She was an alien, she would never understand... 

“I want to see you again,” He said, kneading the headache away between his eyebrows with a thumb and finger, “Tomorrow.”

“I do have tomorrow off.” She answered.

“Excellent. Come to the palace, I’ll send one of my idiot guards to the front gate to fetch you. Be ready to go somewhere much cooler in climate than here.”

“What?” She asked, taken aback by the statement.

“Be here at the break of dawn. Dress warm.” He smirked and tapped the screen, dropping the call. _Studying Saiyan history_? Yes, he would be glad to show her a bit of Saiyan history…


	9. A History Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta invites Bulma for a day trip to the northern part of the planet to show her a piece of Saiyan history. The two talk about their personal lives and later come to an agreement.

 

The sun was rising for another warm day in the capital when Bulma arrived at the palace gates. She came bundled up in her olive jacket, a thick triple wrapped scarf, long boots and warm pants. The king had been very cryptic in his request, and although it infuriated her, she was also deeply curious in the outcome of the day.

Raditz leaned against the outer gate, his arms crossed brusquely and a sour look on his face when she glanced up at him.

“Good morning _Raditz_ , looks like another lovely day in the capital.” Bulma greeted the bulky Saiyan with a sly smile. He answered her with an irritated ‘ _tsk_ ’ and commanded her to follow.

She followed him through the gates of the palace for the first time, staring up awestruck at the spires, which she had only seen from afar previously. The grounds were planted with native succulent plants of pale green, plum, crimson and off white. The sizes of the plants varied greatly, growing among the sandy rocks and boulders in the garden harmoniously; steel blue vines grew among trellises in clusters with large, sweetly scented white flowers.

Gnarled trees with indigo foliage towered nearly ten meters above, their branches spiraling out to tangle into one another like a living wall. She watched as red flower petals fell languidly from their boughs as she passed under them in the surprisingly charming garden.

Instead of taking her into the palace, the disgruntled Saiyan bypassed the entrance and lead her around to the eastern side of the grounds on a neatly bricked path. She noticed a garage beyond the trees and her curiosity grew. _Just where is he taking me?_

Bulma picked up her pace to nearly a run to keep up with Raditz, jogging beside of him and glaring up.

“Where are we going?” She asked and he cocked his eyebrow at her.

“I have no idea.” He answered sharply, glaring ahead as he reached the door to the garage, opening it for her to enter without him. She gave him a scowl and strolled into the cool building, empty of life as far as she could tell. She slowed her pace and attuned her eyes to the dimness inside, glancing at the small pitch black private ships designated for the royal family and nobles docked on each side. She passed several rows before being startled by a voice.

“You made it.” Vegeta said casually, sitting on top of a jet, legs sprawled out and tail swaying. He was dressed in a form fitting crimson tunic of thick material, the Saiyan royal symbol embroidered onto the left breast in platinum thread. It buttoned from the high collar to the waist and was set off by a white undershirt and black sash around the middle.

His trousers were the ones he had worn the last time she had seen him, black and tucked into white boots. She noticed him wearing a fine necklace with a large ruby at his chest, a matching clasp on his tail.

“You scared the hell out of me!” She exclaimed before grinning up at him. The young king shrugged roguishly and stood on the nose of the stealthy jet. He leapt off the side and descended soundlessly, his ki flaring around his form. He landed beside her, grabbing her waist and leaning in to her neck to just to _inhale_ her perfect scent. He couldn’t get over the way she smelled, _like nothing else in any world…and oh how he missed that scent. Feminine, soft, a hint of cream and honey...  
_

“ _Oh_ hello my king.” She whispered as he drew away, gazing at her a moment before sweeping her up in his arms. She cried out in surprise and grabbed on to his shoulders as he flew up with shimmering ki to the hatch, kicking the lever to cause it to retract.

“ _Ah_ , please don’t drop me.” She griped as she clung to him, he rolled his eyes and made a face.

“Woman, I _am_ _not_ going to drop you. Besides we’re not even _that_ far off the ground.” He grumbled, tipping her into the co pilot’s seat teasingly. She scowled up at him as he took his seat.

“I haven’t driven one of these in a while.” He said, holding his palm out to the panel for driver identification and then kicking the engine to life with a rumble. Bulma continued to glower as the cabin pressure changed, causing her ears to pop painfully.

“Well _that’s reassuring_. Where are we going anyway?” She murmured, her arms crossed tightly around her chest.

“Buckle up, you’re fragile and I’ll not have you, falling out or _something_.”

“Falling out?”

“Just buckle up.”

“Why are there _even_ seatbelts on Saiyan ships?”

Vegeta ignored her and threw his arm up on the rest, watching as the garage roof slid open above. He narrowed his eyes and kicked the accelerator, using the stick to hover the ship out and above the rooftop and into the brilliant sun.

“You wanted to learn more about Saiyan history?” He asked nonchalantly. She glared at him and nodded.

"Well I'm going to show it to you first hand."

“Are you even permitted to go out by yourself without any, uh, backup?” She inquired, narrowing her eyes at him as he input the coordinates into the panel.

“Hold on.” He growled, kicking the accelerator hard and turning the wheel with one hand in a tight half circle. Bulma gritted her teeth and grabbed on to the rests as the ship went blasting over and out of the city.

“ _Oh_ , oh I haven’t been in one of these small ships in forever.” She groaned as the ship dashed over the scrubby dunes and small twisted trees outside of the capital. She watched out the window as he maneuvered the ship up in a flash, gliding into the clouds in what only seemed like moments.

“I could have carried you all the way there, it would have been quicker.” He smirked as she shook her head.

“I think I prefer to fly in this jet, better for my hair you know.” She made a face and looked down at the planet below, watching as the landscape changed from scrublands to barren desert as they traveled ever higher in and out of the mists. She turned to him when the landscape changed into indistinguishable red and tan blotches.

“So where _are_ we going?” She asked again, leaning over on the rest. He looked over at her with a cocked eyebrow.

“You ask too many questions.”

“Its my nature.” She smiled as the jet accelerated, reaching its cruising altitude.

“We’re going to the north.”

“I knew that!”

“That’s all you get for now. At least on that subject.”

“Then what _do_ you want to talk about?”

“You. Tell me about your life, I don’t know a thing about you other than your people were destroyed and, ah, carnal knowledge.” His mouth tilted in a half grin as he stared ahead, one hand on the wheel even though it was set to autopilot. Bulma sat back in her seat and sighed.

“I know even less about you.” She said, eyeing him as he let out a ‘ _tch_ ’.

“That’s for the best. Now go on.”

“Ok,” Bulma rolled her eyes slightly “I’m from a planet called Earth. It was a beautiful place, I guess Frieza thought it was too because he destroyed everyone on it so he could _sell_ it.”

Vegeta knitted his eyebrows and said nothing. _I don’t think she would appreciate the fact that it could have just as easily been me to sack her planet…_

“I grew up in a considerably wealthy family; my father was the leading engineering scientist in that world. My mother was a ditz really. Such a good mom though, I miss them both so much… Anyhow, I grew up working on ships and vehicles with dad, flying them, driving them, _building_ them.”

“I graduated college, and got my degree, er, _merit_ in mechanical engineering when I was sixteen. Very young I might add, I _am_ a _genius_!”

“Why aren’t you building your own machines then?” He asked, side eyeing her.

“I’ve worked as a mechanic because, as an alien, it’s much easier to find work. Most people don’t want aliens engineering their machines.”

He nodded.

“I worked for a Namekian, Scargo, for three years after my planet was captured. He was my only friend, but he was a smuggler and got caught. I think I may have mentioned this once,” She smiled, watching him closely, “I really don’t want to bore you with all of this.”

“Tell me about living with the Saiyans.”

“Well, it started out pretty tough until I gained respect among the ranks I guess. To be honest your people are pretty hostile to aliens working alongside you all. After a while things settled in and people got used to having me around. I’ve made close friends though.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“Your close friends, were you fucking any of them?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“What does that even matter?” She narrowed her eyes.

“You _were_.”

“What am I supposed to do, stay celibate? _Please_!”

“Not at all. I was just curious.” _And I will fucking kill a man…_ “Who were they?”

“Do we really need to talk about this right now? You wouldn’t know them anyway.”

He sighed and she leaned on the armrest between them, her head on her fist as she looked at him.

“Your turn, my king. Tell me about your life in a nutshell.”

He gave a humorless laugh and shook his head.

“Not a chance. I’m sure you’ve heard about it anyway.”

“I haven’t, not really. I know very little.”

“Then that’s enough.”

“So we’re at a stalemate? You tell me your secrets I’ll tell you mine.”

“I have demons, not secrets.”

“Oh _come_ on. Then tell me your best memory then, when you were growing up. Or tell me about your parents?”

Vegeta made a face, trying to remember what little of his childhood he had spent with his family in the palace.

“My mother and father didn’t love one another, theirs was a marriage consummated for political reasons and set up by their parents. I would have suffered that same fate had things went _normally_ in my life, but they didn’t.”

“I rarely saw my father, he was always busy ruling the kingdom, dealing with Frieza’s bullshit, out fucking courtesans for all I know. My mother, she’s a good woman.” He shrugged and Bulma stared at him perplexedly.

“Why didn’t things go normally? I know your father was killed…”

“My life has been fucked, Bulma,” He growled as she sat back in her seat huffily. He sighed and looked over at the map on the panel, “We’re almost there.

-

Bulma nearly had her face pressed to the glass as the jet descended through the clouds. She waited with bated breath as the aircraft sunk through the whiteness, making a small gasp when she could see the land below.

“Mountains! And trees! Oh its gorgeous!” She smiled, gazing at the vast piney landscape that was so different than the capital. The mountains were huge, impressive snow capped behemoths jutting out of the landscape violently.

Vegeta continued lowering the jet until they were flying by the sheer cliffs while Bulma continued to stare out in awe.

“It’s just _so_ beautiful.” She murmured dreamily.

“Were not here to see the mountains, remember you’re getting to see a piece of history today.” He replied with a blank face. Bulma ignored him and continued ogling the panorama.

Vegeta lowered the aircraft between the mountains, eventually slowing the machine to hovering over a rocky ledge near the valley floor. The supports descended as he settled the ship into landing with only minimal jarring.

Bulma had already undone her seatbelt, itching to get out of the jet and breath in the mountain air. She hadn’t seen such a land in many years, of scenery that reminded her of _home_.

“This place looks like the countryside outside of the city I grew up in.” She said giddily as Vegeta pushed the hatch forcefully, causing the crisp northern air to fill the cabin in seconds. He grabbed her by the waist with one arm and she clung to his shoulders as he lifted her out of the jet, gliding to the stone below.

As soon as Bulma’s feet touched the rock she was off to get a better view of the valley, standing a safe distance from the edge, she scanned the area in confusion.

“What is this?” She asked, turning to Vegeta who strode casually up behind her.

“This is what’s left of the Tuffle capitol.” He motioned to the ruins, crumbled and grown over heavily with flora.

“Oh… oh wow.” She whispered, shaking her head slowly as it all sunk in. The area seemed to be miles in diameter, razed nearly to the ground and hardly looking like it had ever been a city at all.

“You may have read about the final battle in that war, it’s been nearly thirty years since my father and his soldiers took out the city.”

“As the Oozaru. Oh god, all those people...” She trailed, taking a deep breath of the crisp, fresh air.

“Yes. That was a time when the Saiyans lacked the technology and education of today. But this…” He motioned to the ruins, “Is what we do. We are a volatile people, even now. Not saying they didn't deserve it, they treated us like _slaves_.”

“Humans did this, I mean, _not turn into giant apes_ … but there were wars on Earth, destruction of cities and life. Humans against humans.” She said sadly.

“Interesting, I assumed your people were more like the Tuffles.”

“Well, they were kind of. A mix between Saiyan and Tuffle I guess.” She smiled up at him as he cocked his eyebrow.

“Were your men as puny as you are?” He asked to Bulma’s amusement.

“Absolutely not, well most of them weren’t. My dad was pretty puny!” She laughed hysterically. Vegeta watched her perplexedly as she laughed til tears formed, fascinated by the woman yet again.

“Oh my, that just struck me as too funny!”

“I see.” He said flatly before she finally composed herself.

“I do have a question though. I know the moon cycle is very slow on this planet, _thankfully for me_ , but have you ever… you know, changed into the Oozaru?”

This time it was Vegeta’s turn to laugh.

“Of course woman, I’ve been… doing that since I was a child.” He corrected himself before he said more than he wanted to.

“Really? How does it work, what does it feel like?” She asked excitedly as he walked to the cliff edge and sat, legs dangling over the side. Bulma stood and watched, not wanting to get so close to the ledge.

“Come here and sit, I’m not going to let you fall.” He said without looking back at her. She made a face and nudged to the edge, gingerly crawling with her legs and arms splayed out and inching her rear to the brink. _He won’t let me fall, he won’t let me fall…_

“The transformation only occurs with a gods moon, a _full_ moon. In the past fifteen years a technology was created that allow us to transmit a hologram that tricks our brains into thinking it’s a gods moon.”

“But why?”

“The potential for destruction of course. Our power is tremendously amplified by the change, and we can tirelessly destroy anything that stands in our way.” He nodded toward the destroyed city.

“This city was annihilated in a few hours when my father and his army transformed, ending the power struggle for good against those slave-driving bastards.”

“As for your other question, the transformation is _excruciating_. I can only explain it as feeling like every bone and muscle in your body being stretched and snapped, the skin feels like its being torn over and over again until the transformation is complete. We use it only in emergencies for that reason.”

“That sounds _horrible_. Are you in control of the form, or like an...animal?”

“We undergo training as young children to be able to control ourselves as the Oozaru. It takes a tremendous amount of discipline not to give into the animal though,” He shrugged, “But more or less, we are still in control when the training is complete.”

Bulma watched as a large bird took flight from a toppled building, following it with her eyes until it was out of sight beyond the clouds. She leaned back onto her arms, listening only to the sound of wind as it blew through the valley, she felt at peace for the first time in a long time.

-

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a stretch, each needing the escape from a busy life in the capital, each enjoying one another’s company more than either would like to admit. Bulma lay back onto the stone, placing her arms behind her head as she stared up at the clouds.

“Bulma, do…” Vegeta started, and then stopped, looking down at her where she lay. This was a thought that had nagged him for the past week and he felt like an _idiot_ for saying it out loud.

“I don’t want you seeing other men.” _I want you for myself…_

Bulma’s eyes widened as she looked up at him. _Did he just say..._

“I’m not. But, honestly my king…” She trailed, sitting up and knitting her eyebrows, “Where is this going though? You’re the king.”

It hurt her to say it, but she knew that their relationship could only ever be fleeting. A fling, a _tryst_ …

“I don’t give a shit about that.” He retorted, balling his fists up, “I-I won’t lay with another woman. I haven’t wanted to since…”

Bulma stared at him, shocked. This was the king of the Saiyans, one of the most powerful men in the universe and he was admitting this to _her_.

“I’ll admit you _have_ been on my mind quite a bit.” She smiled nervously, never expecting this from _him_.

“I’m a jealous man.” He sighed, leaning on one hand and glaring over the landscape. _What am I doing, she’s not even a Saiyan…but I want her. I want her to myself._

“And I’m a jealous woman.” She said, giving in despite herself. She didn’t want to fall for him, knowing that it would only ever lead to heartache. He was a Saiyan king and had to take a _Saiyan_ _queen_ , something she could never, ever be. But _oh_ she was falling, even in such a short amount of time. _They just had such chemistry…_

“Then it’s settled, we’re only fucking each other.” He gave a ghost of a grin as she laughed and leaned into him.

“Settled.” She whispered into his ear, sending chills through his body. He felt his thirst for her run through him like fire as he ran his arms under her, cupping her ass and lifting her up into the air; He kissed her deeply as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

They needed a softer spot for what was to come next.


	10. Tai Keita

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The king and his woman enjoy the great outdoors. The two evaluate their relationship internally, deciding that regardless of the stumbling blocks ahead that its worth it to be with one another at the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut chapter- also a shitty attempt at making up a language.

Tall grass swayed around the two as they lay tucked into an area shielded from the brunt of the wind. Bulma lay on her back while Vegeta took the top, kissing her deeply as his restrained cock pressed against her, his hands running through her silky hair. Both were desperate for intimacy, and something about the concept of monogamy driving them wild for each other

He pulled back from her and fumbled with his pant laces, pulling at them with haste. Bulma rubbed her clit through her pants as she looked him in the eyes, driving him  wild with lust as he freed his erection into the chill. She stopped momentarily to pull her boots off and unclasped her denims with ease; he grabbed them at her sides, pulling them with her panties for access.

“Take them all the way off, I want to wrap my legs around you.” She sighed as he grinned at her.

“It’s too cold, woman.”

“I don’t care, do it, it feels better.”

“Now you’re ordering the king around?” He questioned her playfully as he pulled her pants over her feet and threw them out into the grass.

Bulma made a sharp cry as he placed the cold fingers of one hand on her clit and rubbed it methodically while stroking his cock in the other. She moaned from the stimulation, pulling at the grass around her head.

“Ah, tai keita ( _Ah, my woman_ ).” He growled in the Saiyan language, sliding two fingers into her slit, already wet with want. She inhaled deeply, throwing her head back and melting as he curled them up to her g-spot, giving her the come hither motion until she was begging for his cock.

“Oh, aye orh makrai fa ek. ( _Oh, you are welcome to it_ ) ” He said as he crawled on top of her, reaching down to tease her with the head of his dick and slowly pushing it through her slick borderline, making her cry out for more.

“Oh god my king, I _need_ all of you!” She begged as he stared down at her with heavy lids, still pushing only the head in and out, _in and out_.

“Arahai’t keita ( _Beautiful woman_ ),” He husked, finally giving in to his desire and pushing himself to the hilt inside of her luscious warmth with a groan “Aye ya xha tei ( _you shall have me_ ).”

“Ah my king! Oh god!” She cried out and wrapped her legs around him. He lowered his lips to hers, kissing her deeply as he took a slow pace, making her head swim in ecstasy as his length continued to press her rough, erogenous spot in just the right way. She grabbed his hair and he gently bit her lip, wrapping his tail around her leg instinctually.

“Aye catta grat’in laibreta ( _You feel fucking amazing_ ).” He pulled away from her kiss and whispered in her ear as he picked up his pace, cradling her head off the flattened grass as he bit her earlobe. Her lust was heightened by his Saiyan vocabulary, and she wanted more of the sexy, foreign words growling in her ear.

“I have no idea what your saying. But _please_ don’t stop saying it.” She gasped as he began to thrust into her rapidly, breathing at her neck in lust.

“Ve guit aye va yetch tai beilé, oit beilé ne oit vegea, ve guit dastaat va dein aye’re tai keita!” ( _I want you to scream my name, the name of the king, I want everyone to know you’re my woman!_ ) He panted into her ear as he continued the pace to the point of near release, slowing down to curtail his climax to Bulma’s discontent.

“Please, _please_ don’t stop!” She pleaded as he grinned into her neck, biting it gently with his sharp canines as he thrust slower but pounded harder into her. She soon felt herself crossing the borderline, unable to hold her climax any longer.

“Oh _Vegeta_ , oh my…” She trailed as her vision went dark and her body shuddered around his cock as she came with a powerful orgasm. He groaned and sped up, crushing her lips with a kiss as his own release quickly built up after hers.

“Grat! (Fuck!)” He exclaimed as the pleasure consumed him, coming into her with a powerful climax that left him temporarily breathless. He put his forehead to hers, panting as the euphoric feeling faded as fast as it came.

“My king.” She whispered as he opened his eyes, still breathing hard.

“Tai Keita.” He replied, staring into her eyes a moment before gritting his teeth and pulling out of her warmth with hesitation. He rolled over on the grass, lacing his pants to keep his cock from freezing off.

“Put your pants back on, its too damn cold.”

“ _How romantic_. Besides, it’s not _that_ cold,” She replied with a smile, grabbing the garment from the grass to her other side and sliding her legs into her panties first, “It’s not _that_ warm, but its not freezing. ”

She shimmied her pants up as the king lay on his back, arms over his face to shield his eyes from the brilliant morning sun.

“Excuse me, my king.” She said as she redid the clasps on her denims. He threw a hand up in acknowledgement and Bulma took off with her purse into the trees. He sighed deeply, smelling the woman all over his hands and grinning under his arms.

She drove him _wild_. He had never felt this way for any other woman in all his life; an excitement at the thought of seeing her, an avid interest in her personal life, a deep pleasure in knowing she would only lay with _him_. _I am a jealous, selfish man…_

The future was uncertain, but the present was like a dream. He knew he would have to wake up eventually, his duty would call and he would _have_ to marry into nobility, produce an heir… _gods_ ; those thoughts made him curl his lip with disgust. And Bulma would never accept a relationship with him when he had to take a wife, even if it was an unwanted marriage for political reasons. She was a _jealous woman_ , she was _too good_ for that shit, and he would never expect her to accept the role of mistress.

But right now he didn’t want to think about any of that. He just wanted to dally with her, take her to his bed, treat her and touch her and smell the wonderful scent of her skin and hair and body as often as possible….

-

Vegeta lay on his stomach, playing with a stem of grass when she returned. He swayed his tail leisurely as she sat down beside of him, watching as he peeled the blades off of the stem slowly.

“I wish I had a tail.” Bulma said as he continued to peel.

“Why?”

“It looks like fun.” She shrugged and he cocked an eyebrow up at her. _I wish you had a tail too, if you were only a Saiyan, then I could break the rules a little…_

“I mean, god I know I sound like an idiot.” She laughed, laying down beside of him and leaning on her arm. _If you were a Saiyan I could someday take you as…._

“I guess what I mean is that it seems handy.” She supposed, and to her amusement he flicked her on the thigh with his tail. She gave him a look of mock anger before he spoke up.

“What gods do you believe in?” He asked suddenly, looking up from his grassy diversion.

“To be honest, I don’t really believe in any gods. I grew up with science as my religion I guess.” She shrugged picking her own grass stem to dismember. He knitted his brows together and leaned on his arm.

“You say ‘ _god_ ’ a lot not to believe in one.”

“Do you believe in your gods?”

“Of course, I nearly am one so why wouldn’t I?” He grinned impishly at her and she gave him a look, “I don’t really believe in our gods either.”

“Most Saiyans I know are deeply devoted to the gods.”

“Well, I’m not most Saiyans,” He sighed, putting the bladeless stem in his mouth, “I’m starving though. We can head back, _ugh_ , or I’ve got some dried meat in the…”

“I have food!” She exclaimed, reaching into her purse and pulling out a leather wallet. She opened it up, examined the numbers on the metal tubes, selecting the one with her emergency stash. He stared at her like she had gone off the deep end and spat the grass blade out.

“Take this.” She said, handing him the capsule. He looked down at it with a scowl and then back up at her.

“Press the button on the top and just kind of, _toss_ it.”

“What? Toss it?” he reared his arm back to throw.

“Oh god not very far! Just right there!”

He made a face, pressed the button and tossed the capsule. His eyes widened in surprise as a pop and a momentary flash turned into a container in the grass, the capsule lying beside of it with the button depressed.

“What in the twenty eight hells is _this_?” He sat up, narrowing his eyes.

“My dads most famous invention.” She smiled, grabbing the large plastic container and pulling the lid off. He made an incredulous face as she dug into its depths.

“This is _bizarre._ ” He said, grabbing the emptied capsule with his tail and bringing it up to his hands for a closer inspection.

“I carry food with me everywhere, just as a precaution. I didn’t know where we were going today or I would have packed something better.”

“How much can one of these carry?”

“Oh each one is different. But the amount is nearly limitless in the C61’s. You could essentially pack a house, a ship, tons of freight. And it weighs absolutely nothing once its encapsulated.”

He blinked at her as she pulled preserved meats and cheeses out of a smaller container within the large one, as well as a canteen of water.

“I just… I’ve seen a lot of weird shit in my life but that is just _remarkable_.”

“They really are.” She beamed, pulling crackers out and looking them over.

“Still good! Also this was a refrigerated capsule, so all the food should be fine.”

“Bulma, can you make these capsules?” He asked as she dug out a board and knife to cut up the food.

“Well, I never fully learned to make them. I mean, I dabbled a bit but they just weren’t my main focus when I was younger.”

“Do you think you could figure it out?”

“I… really don’t know. I don’t have the resources to even fathom working on them right now.” She shrugged and continued slicing.

“What if you had access to our labs, all of our technology?” He questioned, snatching the food from her as soon as she sliced it up.

“Well….” She trailed, looking up at him wide-eyed and hopeful, “I can’t promise anything.”

“I can grant you access to the lab as soon as I return, we could really utilize this technology.”

“I don’t want to let you down if I can’t duplicate them. I mean it’s exceedingly complex…”

“If you can’t make it, whatever. But if you _can...”_ He took a swig from the canteen, “If you can we could make a damn _fortune_.”

-

The king and the woman ate and then walked back to the jet together, chatting about the capsules all the while. He explained that if she could make the product, the trade minister would not have a hard time finding buyers, as the technology was so unique. Not to mention the Saiyans could use it themselves.

“You would be selling the product to the government, then the trade minister would find and procure buyers across the universe.” He said, reaching the jet and jumping on top effortlessly. He kicked the bar to open the hatch and bent into the cockpit, picking up his handheld and raising up with a scowl.

“Those fucking morons.” He growled as he descended back down to Bulma, who stood watching him curiously.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that these people are so stupid they have a meltdown when I’m not there. They are absolutely losing their shit over the king leaving for half a day, gods forbid.” He gritted his teeth, feeling like he would just crush the handheld then and there before sighing exasperatedly.

“We have to go back now.” He growled, placing the handheld in Bulma’s unsuspecting hands and picking her up. He glided to the top of the jet and sat her down on the rim of the cockpit area. She pulled herself down wordlessly into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt as he kicked the engine to life in the pilot’s chair.

“I don’t regret a moment being king. I love ruling, its my birthright, my blood is royal and _superior_.” He said as he plugged the capitals coordinates into the panel, “But sometimes I just wish I could escape for a week, a damn month even.”

Bulma nodded, wondering what it would be like to have all those responsibilities on top of an active war with a powerful enemy. She stared out wordlessly as the craft rose off the ground, wondering if she would ever see this place again.

-

They sat in silence for most of the trip as Vegeta steamed and Bulma daydreamed, gazing out her window to the scattered clouds and landscape that began to resemble that of the capitol. _Back to the desert…_

A chiming ring brought her back from her thoughts as she dug through her purse for her handheld. She fished it out and looked at the screen, this time it was her turn for disgust.

“God.” She spat, declining the caller. _Caulitz_. Apparently he lost his other piece of ass and needed a booty call.

Vegeta gave her a sideways look, then glared straight ahead, hand on the wheel, his tail flicking in agitation through the back of the seat. _Fucking morons in the capital, oh its crucial that he arrive right away, pending emergency! Yeah right…_

Bulma started to slide her handheld back into her bag when it chimed again, Vegeta cocked an eyebrow, glancing at the screen.

“Caulitz?” He asked, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Yeah. I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks, stupid bastard. I don’t know why he’s calling me now.” She sighed, declining the call again. Vegeta huffed and glared ahead.

“What the hell!” Bulma exclaimed as the handheld chimed yet again, but before she could decline the call Vegeta had grabbed it out of her hand. She gave him a death stare as he accepted the call, holding the handheld far to his left so Bulma couldn’t grab it away.

“Hey Bulma, haven’t heard from you in a while…”

“ _You_. Stop calling on _my_ woman! I swear to every single god under the sun of this planet that I will pulverize each bone in your pathetic body, rip your throat out with my teeth and bathe in your gore while I…”

“ _Oh my god_.” Bulma cried out, throwing her hand to her forehead

“What the fuck?” Caulitz replied angrily.

“STOP CALLING BULMA!” Vegeta snapped and ended the call, handing the device to her with a smug satisfaction.

“Was that necessary?” She asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Absolutely.”

“That was…so _detailed_.”

“This was one of your close friends?”

“Ugh _yes_. Yes it _was_. But he didn’t know I was working on the _Palaibra_ and I found him with another woman on his lap, tails all wrapped together as you all do.” She said irately, shoving her phone back in the depths of her bag and sitting back into the seat with her arms crossed.

“I can kill him for you.” Vegeta stated without even a hint of humor. _Pathetic piece of Saiyan trash, how could anyone abandon this woman…_

“ _No_ , no you don’t have to kill him.” Bulma replied with a sigh, glaring out the window as the capital came into view far off in the distance.

“I’ll leave the offer on the table.” Vegeta growled, decelerating the jet and glancing over at Bulma who was still sulking. He smirked as she ignored him, he had pissed her off but _oh_ how he loved telling that fucker how it was…

-

Vegeta shut the engine off of the docked jet, powering the panels down and then looked over at Bulma. She glanced over at him with a slight grin.

“That was pretty funny, now that I’m over you taking my handheld from me.”

“Glad to be of service.” He replied indifferently, standing to push the hatch up. He motioned for her to follow and she unbuckled her belt, standing with him. He grabbed her waist, lifting her up effortlessly, his ki throwing up a gold aura in in the dim garage. He pushed his lips on hers, kissing her deeply as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her in mid air, wanting to take her again right then and there. But duty called… _a blessing and a curse._

He lowered her to the garage floor, breaking off their kiss and backing away from her as his ki died away. _Oh, how he wanted to keep holding her…_

“I have to go now." He said, motioning for her to follow him to the door and walking in silence until they reached the exit. He looked over at her and sighed, his hand on the door handle.

“I was hoping, ah, that our trip today could have lasted longer.” He said awkwardly, making a face. _  
_

“I had a wonderful day, thank you for the history lesson.” Bulma smiled at him and winked. It was all he could do to restrain himself from pushing her up against the garage wall and kissing her, ripping her clothes off, taking her pert nipple in his mouth and…

“I’ll contact you in time.” He said, putting his finger and thumb under her chin briefly before opening the door and motioning for her to exit.

The sun outside glared down hot and bright and the two shielded their eyes, exiting the garage. Raditz was leaned up against a tree in front of the building, sleeping awkwardly with his tail wrapped around his waist.

“Wake up moron. Why are you still here?” Vegeta scolded as Raditz lifted an eye open.

“Because I was supposed to be with you.” He replied groggily, rolling his neck on his shoulders and standing to stretch.

“Oh, yeah,” Vegeta shrugged, “Well, escort Bulma to the front gates. I have some sort of important matter to attend to since I was summoned by half the fucking population to return immediately.”

“Is it related to the war?” Raditz asked with a hint of alarm.

“No, no, trade agreements, domestic issues. Shit that _just_ couldn’t wait apparently.”

The king gave Bulma a longing glance before taking off to the palace in a blast of ki. Raditz looked down at her with an annoyed stare; he could smell the king _all over her_ and it made him furious that Vegeta should defile himself with a pathetic alien woman.

“Alright _Radz_ , you heard the king. Lets go!” Bulma said with an overly large smile, she was incredibly amused that her presence irritated the hulking Saiyan so greatly.

Raditz huffed, leading Bulma to the gates without another word.

-

Bulma returned to her apartment and sighed, still disbelieving the events that had happened today. The capsule deal was so important, it could possibly change her life forever- but she couldn’t help but be enamored with the fact that he wanted to be _monogamous_ with her. Never in her life would she imagine _that_ was coming.

She stripped her warm clothes off and threw them in the hamper before turning the shower on. She stepped in after it warmed, washing her body with a soapy cloth and ran the events of the day through her head. She knew that the relationship couldn’t last forever. He was the king and would be expected to marry a noble Saiyan woman sooner than later. The thought made jealousy rise up angrily within her, but she knew she had to be practical about the situation.

It wouldn’t do to fall in love with him, she would only wind up brokenhearted, but she didn’t want to end the relationship either. She wanted to see him as much as possible, to touch his hard bronze body, to kiss him, lay in luxury within his sheets and learn _each_ and _every_ one of his secrets. She made a living out of knowing how things ticked, and he was no exception now.

 

 


	11. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma finds out more than she wanted to know about the kings past. Vegeta tries (in his own way) to apologize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wrote itself! There is a lot of wine drinking in the chapter, just a warning. 
> 
> A little bit of angst amidst the smut and fluff, hope you all enjoy :>
> 
> *Edited 02-27-17

Bulma found herself waking up on the couch, her handheld on the floor where she dropped it when she drifted off the previous night. She stared out the sheer curtains of the window at the sun, rubbing her eyes still swollen from sleep. She had woken up late, but it really didn’t matter since she didn’t have anywhere to be. Today was her monthly call from her old friend, Scargo, and she surely didn’t want to miss that.

She grabbed her handheld and went to the bathroom to perform her morning duties, but held off on taking a shower until he called her. It wasn’t long after she had started to brush her teeth that his contact chimed on her device. She spat her toothpaste out in a hurry and gave her mouth a quick rinse before accepting the video call.

“Scargo! How are you doing?” She said with a bright smile, waving at the screen.

“Bulma, cheery as ever. I’ll be doing better when I get out of this damned place.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Bulma gave him a sad look and ran her hand through her hair.

“I’m sorry Scargo, I wish you could get out now.” She said, taking a seat on her couch.

“Enough about me, nothing new here, tell me what’s been going on in the land of Saiyans.” He grinned.

“Welllll,” Bulma sang with a coy smile, “A _lot_ has been happening Scargo. You’re not going to believe any of it.”

“Hmm. Try me.” He said, lifting a brow.

“Well there was a battle, well it wasn’t much of a battle since that Cold guy ran off. Anyhow…” She trailed, giving him a funny look.

“Yes?”

“Anyhow I met the king.”

“Okay, and?”

“I may have slept with him.”

“Seriously?”

“On different occasions.”

“Huh.” Scargo stared blankly, processing the information with surprise, “The king of the Saiyans?”

“Yes.”

“ _Bulma_.” He griped accusingly.

“I know, I know. It’s been wild to tell the truth. Like a weird dream, and everything’s happening so fast.”

“What’s happening so fast?”

“Its just, well, he’s very interested in my capsules. He’s going to grant me access to the labs here, and all the latest technology. I may be able to sell the product to the government if I can figure out how to make the damn things.”

“That could be a lucrative endeavor…” He trailed, “But that’s not all is it.”

“You read me like a book my friend,” Bulma smiled, “Its not.”

“Go on.”

“He told me he… wanted to be monogamous. Already.” She leaned on the arm of the couch as he gave her a skeptical glare.

“And what did you say?”

“I... wanted that as well.”

“ _Bulma._ You are playing with fire,” He scowled, “Do you even know about him, his past?”

“Probably not as much as I should.” She shrugged, giving him an apologetic face.

“I don’t know a whole lot, but I know he was a hostage to Frieza for quite a while.”

“I knew that…”

“So you know he worked for Frieza, that he’s a murderer? He’s killed millions, hell, billions of innocent people, slaughtering them just like the people on your planet Bulma.” He said bluntly, she stared at him, her face going white.

“I guess I should have known that too. “ She said, swallowing nervously, “He just, he doesn’t seem like…that.”

“I don’t know what he’s like now but I remember hearing tales of the young Saiyan prince, his ruthlessness and adeptness at murdering, even as a kid. The destroyer of worlds.”

“Oh god.” Bulma said, her stomach churning uneasily.

“So you may want to, you know, think about that next time.”

Bulma stared into the screen blankly, thinking about how gentle he was when he picked her up, when he kissed her… _he was rough around the edges but_ …

“Yeah, I guess so.” She said, giving him a sad smile. He leaned forward and propped his chin on his hand.

“Didn’t mean to bring you down Bulma, I just don’t wanna’ see you hurt.”

“Oh I know Scargo, I know.”

“I do hope you can get the capsules produced though, you deserve to be successful.”

“And then I can bail you out!” She grinned outwardly, although she was still a tempest of emotion within.

“I wouldn’t stop you.” He replied, returning the smile.

Bulma chatted with Scargo for several more minutes before his time was up, they said their goodbyes until next month, and then she was left in silence.

“A murderer, ruthless killer of millions, maybe billions. _The destroyer of worlds.”_ She whispered to herself, holding back tears. _I should have known, I should have known…_

-

Vegeta missed a beat and was punched in the face with incredible force, sending him sprawling backwards and crashing into the sand. He regained composure, crouching and bearing his teeth as Kakarot approached, blazing with pale blonde hair and cyan eyes.

“You _shit_.” He growled to himself, dodging the younger Saiyans blow just in the nick of time. He turned on Kakarot immediately, lifting his clasped fists above his head and bringing them down on the boy’s spine, causing him to crumple in the sand.

Kakarot rolled, grabbing Vegeta by the foot and nearly pulling him down before the king recoiled with a kick, soaring in the air with a huge blast of ki. He hovered above, wearing only a pair of loose white trousers and panting, dripping with sweat in the unforgiving desert sun. He lowered his ki and his brilliant golden aura dissipated, his hair turning from pale blonde to rusty black, his eyes darkening to coal.

“That’s enough for today, Kakarot.” He yelled, descending to the ground where they kept the travel pack. Kakarot dropped his ki as well, regaining his normal hair and eye coloring as he sat down on the sand. Vegeta approached with a canteen and threw it at the boy who caught it with ease. Kakarot poured the water down his throat in a stream and lay on his back, still panting from the spar.

Vegeta sat near Kakarot, chugging from his own canteen ravenously. The two had been sparring for hours and now each of them could feel the ache and exhaustion in their muscles and bones. Vegeta glared toward the capital, ready to be back at the palace for food and a cool bath. Ah, and _the_ woman. He wanted to call on her today as well.

“Lets go back, I’m fucking starving.” Vegeta mumbled, throwing his empty canteen at the boy who caught it without a fumble.

“Me too. Past time to eat…” Kakarot trailed, walking over to the pack on the ground and grabbing it as Vegeta hovered, still glaring at the city distractedly.

“What’s on your mind?” The boy asked, noting the king's distant demeanor.

“What? Nothing. Just ready to head back.” Vegeta dismissed him, blasting off with a flash of ki. Kakarot sighed, taking off behind him toward the capital in the distance.

-

Vegeta pulled his head up out of the water of his bath, the wetness making his hair hang at funny angles. He lay back against the tub, hanging his arms over the sides as the mineral salt pulled tension from his overworked muscles. He hung his tail over the edge as well, dripping water from the thick brown fur into the stone floor as he closed his eyes. He listened only to the patter of the water pooling under his tail, relishing the silence that was so rarely known to him. Short moments had passed however, before his handheld chimed.

He opened his eyes in irritation as he reached over to the pedestal with his drying cloth hung over it, on top of which his handheld sat blaring its awful chiming sounds. He grabbed it and pulled it over into view, looking with a quiet shock at the message on the screen.

_We need to talk._

_The woman_. Why would she need to talk? He told her he would contact _her_. He knitted his eyebrows together and tapped the screen, calling her as he lay back in the tub. _Gods forbid she be in trouble…_

-

Bulma sighed, picking up her handheld from the end table, accepting the video call from the king with anxiety.

“Are you okay?” He asked as soon as the call popped up on the screen. Bulma couldn’t help but smile at him, his hair hung limply and she could tell he was lying in a tub.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.” She said somberly, giving him a sad look as he cocked an eyebrow. He was no expert in reading the emotions of others, but obviously something _wasn't_ okay.

“What’s wrong?”

How was she going to say this? How could she possibly talk to him about this…something that he was obviously trying to hide from her the day before. _Best to just get it out…_

“I found out you killed billions of people and I don’t like it.” She blurted out, making a face at the screen. He stared at his own display expressionlessly and threw his free hand to the bridge of his nose.

“I didn’t think you would care much for that, being an alien,” He sighed, rubbing his forehead, “There’s nothing I can really say or do to change anything about my past now.”

Bulma sighed, assuming he would just blow up in anger and make the situation easier to break it off with him. But he _didn’t_ , and she didn’t quite know what to say.

“Do you regret it?”

“I’m not _proud_ of it.” He answered, hiding away the fact that he had _loved_ it- at the time.

But those _were_ different times; he was a different person now… he could feed his inborn need to fight and kill with sparring and battle. Instead of being a hostage and slave he was now a king, a ruler in a society gaining a foothold in trade and a capitalistic sense that could bring great wealth to the people. _The people that had almost been annihilated by the one that kept him enslaved…_

“You could have been the one that killed everyone on my planet, my family, my friends…”

“But I didn’t.”

“But it could have been you.”

“Yes I guess it could have.”

They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Vegeta scowled. He didn’t want to back down, but he didn’t want to lose her just now either.

“If…ah. If there were anything I could do to make it… _this_ better I would do it. I can’t take back my past Bulma.” He sighed, gritting his teeth. _Why in the hells did this woman have an effect on him like this? To think the damned king of all Saiyans would try to gain forgiveness from an alien woman…gods._

She stared at him, slightly shocked at his response and bit her lip. Her gut was telling her to leave the budding relationship out to freeze, but her heart was tugging at her to proceed. He’s a murderer, but Saiyans are all murderers, right? She tried to rationalize the situation to herself, but felt really torn at her options.

“I, I think I just need some time to think over things. Goodbye.” She murmured, ending the call and setting the handheld on the table in front of her. She leaned over on the arm of her worn couch, burying her head in her arms but holding back her tears as she weighed the situation.

Vegeta glared at the handheld in disbelief. His initial reaction was that of rage from being hung up on, but the feeling soon dissipated to an amused relief. _Damn insolent woman, at least she didn’t tell me she never wanted to see me again…_

He placed the handheld on the side of the tub and sighed as he lifted himself out of the water and onto the rug. He grabbed his cloth and dried his hair, staring at himself in the mirror and wondering how much time the woman would need… _He was a very impatient man_.

-

Bulma had sulked for nearly an hour, eventually showering, dressing and moping into the kitchen when her stomach began to growl. She had skipped breakfast and was now hearing about it. She grabbed her handheld and turned music on as she prepared to make lunch, setting the device on the counter as she grabbed bread from the cabinet. She set the bread out, singing along with the music with a less than pleasing voice as she gathered the rest of the ingredients for her afternoon meal.

She pulled her greens, meat and condiments from the fridge and shut the door with her ass when she heard a tapping and glared up toward the balcony door in fear.

“SHIT!” She exclaimed, dropping everything to the floor in shock when she saw a figure standing there.

“You can’t sing.” Vegeta called through the glass as he leaned on the balcony railing, waiting for admittance.

“What the _hell_ Vegeta!” She cried, turning off the music and walking briskly toward the balcony door. She opened the blinds to where she could see him better, throwing a hand to her hip. He stood with his arms crossed, wearing simple sleeveless armor, gloves and _very_ tight pants. It was similar to the armor Caulitz used to wear but this one had the royal crest enameled on the left breast.

“Are you going to let me in?”

“Why? I told you I need some time to think! How did you find my apartment?”

“It’s been over an hour. And you work for the military, it wasn't hard to find your address.” He knitted his eyebrows together, flicking his tail agitatedly. Bulma rolled her eyes and unlocked the glass door, sliding it open to admit him into her apartment. He looked around, making his way through the kitchen and into the living room, sniffing the air.

“ _Well_ just make yourself _right_ at home, what are you doing?” She asked incredulously as she picked up her food, still packaged, off the kitchen floor.

“It smells _so_ good. I can smell you on everything.” He mumbled, poking at an odd plant and making his way to a shelf with pictures. He narrowed his eyes at a younger version of Bulma, smiling with a yellow haired woman and a puny older man with pale lavender hair.

“Those are, _were_ my parents.” She said, putting the food on the table and sighing. He made a sound of acknowledgement and moved on, looking over her humble abode before taking a seat at the bar.

“It’s really small. And cluttered.” He said bluntly, leaning his jaw on his hand. She gave him a weak laugh as she put her sandwich together.

“Yeah, well I wasn't expecting company today.”

“Hmm.”

“You want one. Or five?” She asked, motioning toward the food.

“Oh how I would love to try this culinary masterpiece.” He grinned sarcastically as she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“How many?”

“Just a few, I ate when I returned to the palace after sparring.” He said nonchalantly while reaching over and taking up the sandwich that was already prepared, stuffing it in his face in the grand Saiyan fashion.

“You tried to hide it from me, the _murdering lots of people_ thing…why?”

“Because.” He said after swallowing.

“Because why? Don’t dance around this I’m not in the mood.”

_Insolent!_

“Because I didn’t want this reaction! You aren’t a Saiyan woman you don’t understand…” He growled, watching her prepare the next sandwich, “Do you have any wine?”

She gave him an exhausted look and opened the fridge, pulling out a half full bottle of cheap, sweet white wine and holding it up.

“That’ll do.” He exhaled as she pulled the cork out and grabbed a wine glass from the cabinet, filled it and slid it over to him.

“I know good and well I’m not a Saiyan woman you don’t have to remind me.” She huffed, finishing the second sandwich hastily and finally making her own. Vegeta raised his eyebrows and sipped.

“It bothers you?”

“Of course it bothers me! I’m the only one left of my kind and I’m constantly looked down on as an outsider, a weak pathetic alien woman that raises suspicion and dirty looks…”

“I don’t look down on you.” He interrupted and she sighed.

“I don’t fit in anywhere,” She said with tears welling up in her eyes, “And besides I’m supposed to be mad at you because you murdered billions of innocent people.”

“Not all of them were innocent…” He trailed as she made a face.

“Shit Bulma, I was working on orders from Frieza. My life would have been a lot different if I hadn’t been kidnapped by that bastard when I was _seven_.” _Gods I don’t want to talk about this…_

She grabbed the bottle beside her, uncorking it again and taking a swig right from it. He gave her a look as she sat down opposite of him, running her hands through her hair as she hung her head. Her tears fell onto the bar in soft patters. He threw his head back and drank the rest of his wine as she cried silently.

“I fucking hate crying. Its so stupid.” She said, wiping her tears away and taking another swig from the bottle. He took it out of her hand when she was through and took a long drink from it.

“Then don’t cry, keita.” He grumbled, handing the wine back to her.

“What does _keita_ mean?” She asked, looking over at him with reddened lids. He couldn’t help but grin.

“It means woman.”

“I should have guessed,” She sniffed, giving him a sad smile, “Lets get drunk.”

He raised his eyebrows at her in amusement.

“I need to be back at the palace tonight, I have official business.”

“Fuck it, go in drunk.” She demanded, drying up the rest of her tears on her sleeve. He gave her a rare laugh and shrugged.

“I’ll tell them I am indisposed and can’t be bothered with it then.” He grinned as she took another swig of the dwindling wine.

“I’ve got two more bottles under the cabinet. Cheapo stuff.” She shrugged as she took a bite out of her sandwich.

“You’ll have to come with me and have some real wine again.”

“Not tonight though, you’re going to stay?”

“Sure.”

- 

“I almost fucked an Arcosian princess once.” Vegeta said, giving Bulma a look of subdued horror.

“I don’t know what that is?” She laughed, taking a long drink from the glass. Both of them were rather tipsy, sitting on her couch and talking about their pasts.

“You’ve seen…Frieza? At least pictures of that ugly shit?” He asked and she nodded, “She was like him with tits. It was _his_ sister.”

Bulma threw back her head and cackled as Vegeta grinned despite himself.

“She made advances at some stupid Arcosian celebration when I was sixteen or so. I was a virgin, young and horny but damn did I have to consider the situation pretty heavily. I ended up going with my brain and telling her that Frieza would hack my dick off if he found out. She wasn’t pleased with my decision.”

Bulma laughed until she could hardly breath, and Vegeta knew she could never know the weight of that situation. Frieza _really_ would have done it, probably _worse_ as well…

“I thank the gods every day that I didn’t go through with that,” He said, finishing off his glass and exhaling, “I would have never got the picture of fucking Frieza out of my head.”

Bulma continued to giggle, finishing her own glass and holding her hand up.

“So how old _were_ you, when you first had sex?” She asked, leaning over onto the arm on her side of the couch.

“Twenty, after I became king.” He grimaced, “You?”

“Seventeen. But it was…stupid,” She chortled, pouring them another glass, “It was at a port one night, I was drinking late with Scargo and I met this guy…”

“I don’t wanna' know.” He slurred, picking up his glass, “I don’t wanna’ hear about you fuckin' some alien.”

“But its funny!”

“Nope.”

“So, tell me how many women you’ve had in three years time?”

“Gods woman,” He said, giving her a look as he drank, “A _lot_.”

Bulma glowered at him, a flash of jealousy rising up within her alcohol emboldened spirit.

“Hmm. Well, I guess you’ll just end up marrying one of them, right? Take your pick, huh?”

Vegeta nearly spat his wine out and looked at her in revulsion.

“ _Keita_ I do not wanna’ talk about that.”

“But you will have to marry a noble Saiyan woman?”

“Eventually.” He said, leaning on his arm uncomfortably.

They sat in silence in a moment, Bulma stewing and Vegeta brought back to thoughts of his unpleasant future duty with a scowl.

“That really sucks,” She said, looking over at him and stretching her legs out on the couch, “You should be able to marry whomever you want, you’re the damn king.”

“Not how it works.” He shrugged; flicking his tail over her legs and leaning his head back, “They would have picked a suitable woman for me when I was seventeen if things had went…normally.”

“And that’s even worse.”

"I _really_ don’t wanna' talk about this.” He growled, grabbing the bridge of his nose and exhaling. She sighed dramitically as she sat her glass down and crawled over to him, placing one leg on each side of his hips, straddling him and gazing into his coal dark eyes. He lifted his head to meet her cool blue gaze as she glanced down at him, smiling coquettishly as he took a deep breath.

“Then how about we talk about something else. Or not talk at all.” She whispered before placing her lips on his. He reciprocated gladly, grabbing her hips as she pressed against his cock, rousing it to stiffen beneath her.

“I think that sounds like a plan.” He whispered as she unbuttoned her shirt, “A really damn good one.”


	12. Blue Diamonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta is haunted by his past as well as his mother. Bulma talks to Yama about the king and later finds a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut chapter! Also a WARNING- Vegeta has a short flashback of his childhood abuse by Frieza, so you may want to skip if that bothers you. 
> 
> *Edited 12/17/17

Vegeta swayed as he picked the woman up, he was a little more intoxicated than he had originally thought and was careful to avoid the table in front of her couch. She pressed her lips on his for a crushing, wine-sweet kiss as he stumbled into the only bedroom in the apartment.

The opaque curtains on the windows filtered out the afternoon sun, leaving the room dark and cool as he tossed her playfully to the bed. She cried out as she hit the unmade sheets, giggling and pushing the hair out of her face. She took her unbuttoned shirt off and tossed it to the floor, unsnapping her bra and letting her breasts bounce out to Vegeta’s satisfaction.

“Aye orh Gesshing. ( _You are perfect_ )” He purred, and was on her in a flash, taking one pert nipple in his teeth and pinching the other with his gloved fingers. Bulma groaned as she fumbled with her shorts, trying to unbutton them while Vegeta sat up on his knees and groped to unsnap his armor.

Bulma leaned forward and placed a hand on his armored chest, unsnapping the left, then the right to Vegeta’s amusement. He lifted the armor over his head and let it drop to the floor with a loud thump.

“I guess you’ve done that before?” He said in an impish tone, and she gave him an unamused glare. She crossed her arms over her chest in defiance but didn’t make a move to stop his exploration of her body.

He ran his gloved hands down her curves and pulled her partially unbuttoned shorts down her legs and over her feet. He smirked darkly at her lacy black panties, knowing exactly what he needed to do to them. He took them at the sides and ripped them apart in a flash as she shrieked.

“I’m going to run out of panties!”

“Hmm.”

“Seriously!”

He ignored her, running his gloved hands all over her skin, to her inner thighs and up to her breasts as he savored every dip and curve of her ivory flesh. He drew back from her and pulled his gloves and top off, his tight pants proudly displayed the curve of his erection as she placed her hands on his balls, nuzzling his cock over top of the fabric with her lips.

He exhaled as she pulled his waistline, motioning for him to follow her up further into the bed. He crawled up to her, kicking his boots off into the floor as she fumbled with the drawer of her nightstand, finally pulling out a small pink vibrator and clicking it on with a giggle.

He growled as she placed it on her clit, moving it up and down and taking in deep breaths of pleasure. He gritted his teeth and pulled his cock out, stroking it as it he made to mount her- when she closed her legs to him.

“Grat’ka vika! (fucking tease!)” He husked, his cock weeping onto her linens as she smiled wickedly, her head propped up on her pillow.

“Come here.” She whispered, returning the vibrator between her legs and licking her lips. Vegeta made a face and obeyed, but he wouldn’t let her get away with this impudence for _too_ long. He grabbed the back of her head as she took his cock in her mouth hungrily, licking and sucking it before Vegeta pushed deep into her throat with a shuddering groan.

He threw his free arm to the wall behind Bulma for leverage as she deep-throated him, running her mouth from head to base, sending pulses of pleasure through his nerves and driving him absolutely mad with desire. She finally took one hand and grabbed his shaft, focusing on the sensitive head with her tongue, twirling it around and sucking until he was panting, giddy to release into her mouth.

His head was cloudy with lust as she continued, but he soon remembered he had to show _her_ that _he_ was the dominant one here. He pulled away from her, grabbing her vibrator out of her hands in a flash and throwing it, causing it to bust into pieces. He needed to taste her, to lap at her and be consumed in her feminine musk.

“What the…ah, hell!” She cried as he spread her legs and thrust his head between them, wasting no time to lap at her honey and run his tongue from her opening to her swollen clit. She moaned, reaching down to grab his hair, pulling at it in ecstasy as he licked, sucked and nipped until _he_ was satisfied. She stared at him in surprise as he pulled away from her and backed off the bed.

“Oh don’t stop _now_!” She pleaded before he pulled her by her ankles until her ass was at the edge of the bed, guiding her feet to his shoulders in a quick motion. She gasped as he guided his cock into her dripping wet slit with enthusiasm, holding her ankles and pounding into her relentlessly. The headboard knocked into the wall with each thrust, keeping an upbeat tempo as her mattress squeaked noisily.

“Keita, aye leat va cail fa hetatcha ve ka ayre vegea! (Woman, you would do well to remember I am your king!)” He husked as she moaned his name, balling up fistfuls of linens in ecstasy as he fucked her hard, rough and _just_ the way she wanted it.

“Don’t stop, don’t _fucking_ stop!” She cried out before her neighbor started beating on the wall with choice words that both of them ignored, causing the threats from the other side of the partition to get louder as they did.

After some time Bulma reached her climax, shouting her kings name, hips bucking involuntarily as she tremored with the powerful orgasm that rippled through her body, making her mind dark and muzzy with ecstasy. Her pussy convulsed around Vegeta’s cock, sending him over the edge with gritted teeth.

“Gods damn!” He growled as he came, the pleasure radiating from his balls to his core as he exploded into her with a hazy shudder. His sweat dripped on her body as she panted beneath him, and he sighed deeply as he released her ankles to pull out of her. She gathered her legs up to her body and lay in the afterglow of her pleasure; he fell to the bed beside of her with his tail falling over her belly limply.

The neighbor, hearing that the couple had stopped rutting, started yelling behind the wall again and Vegeta rolled his eyes. He lifted his head and yelled in the Saiyan language as Bulma tried to pick up some of the words… _the king, fuck you…_ probably something about murder…

The neighbor immediately shut up, and Bulma grinned impishly at him while he glared at the wall, ready for a fight.

“Oh come on Vegeta, I would be pissed off too if I heard all of _this_ coming from over there.”

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m the king and I don’t put up with shit.” He replied, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes with a huff.

-

 

 _“Come here you little monkey!” Frieza hissed from his floating throne as_ the boy _sheepishly entered the royal hall on the Arcosian battleship._

 _“Did I stutter you shit? I mean right now!” The tyrant roared as_ the boy _hastened his pace, bowing deeply in front of the throne with his tail wrapped tightly around his waist._

 _“I have gotten word about your disappointing first purge today!” Frieza said, flicking his tail rapidly as he glared down at_ the boy _with dangerous, crimson eyes._

_“What do you have to say for yourself?”_

_“I-I am sorry my lord, I just forgot…”_

_“Forgot? Forgot to kill a whole city full of natives? What is it about purging don’t you understand you fucking idiot?” Frieza shrieked, slamming his fist into the arm of the throne and sending cracks down its side in his rage._ The boy _swallowed hard as he glared at the floor, feeling like he could throw up right under the tyrant’s feet._

The boy _had been abducted from his parents only days prior and was now strictly under the thumb of Frieza. He had fought, bit, kicked and raged against the rest of his captors, but this Frieza, he was different. He had a power that left_ the boy _powerless and cowering in his boots. The Arcosian could inflict pain quickly, intensely and extendedly._ The boy _had learned quickly to fear this one as he had never feared anyone before._

 _Frieza glided off the chair, reaching down and pulling_ the boy up by his tail as he cried out.

 _“Are you going to leave vermin alive next time Vegeta? Hmm?” He growled at_ the boy _who had grabbed onto his own tail in a feeble attempt to stop the intense pain at the sensitive base._ The boy _could only nod as tears filled his dark eyes, gritting his teeth in agony._

_“I couldn’t hear you Vegeta, what was that? Speak up monkey!”_

_“No, I will kill them all my lord! All of them!”_ The boy _squeaked as Frieza gave him a dry laugh._

 _“You fucking better!” The tyrant hissed as he slapped_ the boy _forcefully across his face, slinging him by his tail towards the wall..._

-

“Grat! Aye Grat’ka iki! (Fuck! You fucking bastard!)” Vegeta cried, his heart racing as he thrashed under the linens, nearly striking Bulma and almost falling off the bed in the process. He immediately coiled his tail up protectively around his waist as he sat up, gasping for air in the dark, quiet room.

“Vegeta!” Bulma cried, her own heart pounding out of her chest as she fumbled to turn her lamp on, “What’s wrong?”

He stared down at the bed with wide eyes, looking over at her and then at his trembling hands as he started to get a grip on the situation. _I’m in bed with the woman, in her house, I look like a fucking idiot, I’m okay…_

“Nothing.” He mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face and sighing. Bulma still glared at him in shock, reaching over to touch his arm when he pushed her hand off moodily. She gave him a scowl and crossed her arms.

“Sure as hell doesn’t look like _nothing_.”

“Just a stupid…dream.” He growled, “What time is it? My head is pounding.”

“It’s nearly nine, you passed out and I’ve been killing time on my handheld.” She gave him a weak smile as he rubbed his temples.

“Shit, it’s been that long?” He asked with surprise and she nodded.

“You must have been pretty tired. You crawled under the sheets while I was in the bathroom and haven’t moved until now.”

He shook his head and pulled the linens off, heading to the bathroom without a word.

-

Bulma was surprised at the king’s demeanor, she hadn’t quite seen the moodier side of his personality and didn’t care much for it at all. He sulked into her room, gathering his clothing and armor without a word, heading into the living room to put the shirt, gloves and chest piece on _away_ from her.

He didn’t want to talk to _anyone_ , not even the woman. All he could think of was heading back to his room and sitting on the balcony, or training… training aggressively had always helped to kill the awful feeling of despair and humiliation of the past. It had been a while since he had experienced such a vivid nightmare, and he was shook from its intensity.

He pulled the armor over his head and struggled to buckle the sides when Bulma came to stand at the edge of the living room, leaning on the wall with only an oversized T-shirt and new panties on.

“Need help?” She asked, her arms crossed.

“No.” He snapped as he fumbled with the snaps and finally buckled the left. She walked over to him casually, and to his annoyance, fastened the right one with ease.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I don’t mind to listen. And if you don’t want to talk about you don’t have to be such an ass.”

He glared at her, clenching and unclenching his gloved hands as he debated with himself in his head. To chastise her for being impertinent, or to just leave...

“I need to be going. I will have a lot of business to catch up with this week, especially since neglecting my duty tonight. I will contact you in time.” He proclaimed, softening his eyes slightly as she gazed at him, _gorgeous_ blue. She reached over, kissing him gently on the cheek as he cocked his eyebrow.

“Well, I’ll be working all week anyway.” She shrugged, and he stared at her a moment before speaking.

“I got you clearance to the A59 lab, they will know who you are and stay open at all hours. You can go anytime.” He turned away from her and walked toward the door.

“Thank you!” She exclaimed, clasping her hands together in joy. He grabbed the door handle with a small, private smile, opening it and leaving without looking back

-

Vegeta landed on his balcony, taking a deep breath of the cool night air as he stared up at the stars. He had trained for several hours, fighting with robotic foes in the training chamber until his fury, embarrassment and stress had turned into exhaustion- a not so distant memory on the horizon.

He sighed, lowering his head and wishing that the woman hadn’t seen his reaction, his raw terror from a _stupid_ dream of a shitty past. He tapped his knuckles on the stone of the banister, overthinking the situation _again_ , then turned to head toward the door. He removed his right-handed glove and placed his hand to the sensor, causing the lock to unlatch with a _click_ as he turned the handle and entered.

He noticed something was wrong as soon as he stepped through the door, the lights in the living area past his bedroom were on, and he could smell Saiyan women. _Mother…gods why._

“What in the name of Onin and all his warriors are _you_ doing _here_?” He called out, his bad mood not exempting his mother from his ferocity, “Its after midnight!”

He walked out into the living area and glared at her as she lounged on the couch, drinking a glass of wine with a servant standing to her side. She was dressed in a simple cotton nightdress, her hair loose and wild.

“Rubra, I’ve heard some _rather_ disturbing news about you.” Celera said, taking a sip and glaring right back at her son with the same ferocity he had extended to her.

“Oh for fuck’s sake mother, I do _not_ have time for this.” He growled, rubbing between his eyes as his headache began to rear its ugly head again.

“Oh, but you had plenty of time to skip out on your duty as the king and fuck an alien woman?”

“Get out.” He said dangerously, gritting his teeth as his heart sped up.

“You are more like your father than you could ever possibly know, he had a taste for the alien sluts as well.” Celera said, tilting her head back and finishing the wine in her cup, motioning for the servant to pour more.

“Get. _Out_.” He growled dangerously, his fists shaking with rage.

“I can smell cheap wine and her stink on you from here!” Celera hissed, not making a move to leave, “Why would you lower yourself to this Rubra? Despoiling yourself with an _alien bitch_.”

Vegeta glared at her incredulously, his hair sparking with hints of pale gold as he took a deep breath. _How dare she?_ Coming into the room of her son, _her damned king,_ and belittling him for whom he chose to fuck… it was _too much_. Calling Bulma a bitch, a slut, was just _too much_. _Oh, she had no idea…_

“Well mother, maybe he wouldn’t have been fucking around if you had been a better wife, yes? I’ve heard about your escapades as well! Fucking every general in his gods damned army.” Vegeta hissed as Celera glared at him with pure rage. She bared her teeth and threw the nearly full wine glass to the floor, rushing towards the door as it shattered into a million pieces.

“Gods forbid she is able to get pregnant! Then you would have a half-breed bastard on _your_ hands. The people would be _so proud_!” She mocked, opening the chamber door and storming out without another word.

Vegeta watched furiously as she left, the servant girl trailing the former queen and leaving the door standing wide open. Vegeta gritted his teeth as he tore over to the exit, looking out and seeing Raditz standing outside like the _fucking idiot_ he was.

“You son of a bitch!” Vegeta roared, hovering off the ground and punching Raditz in the face, causing blood to spray from his newly broken nose in streams. The larger Saiyan fell back, sliding down the wall in a daze as Vegeta slammed the door deafeningly.

Vegeta stared at the glass shards scattered across the floor in every direction, the deep red wine looking like blood spilled on the rug. _How many times had Frieza thrown his wine glass at me like this?_ He walked by and kicked the tea table across the room as he made his way to the bathroom to cool off in the shower. _How dare she…_

-

  
“Yama! I’m so glad to see you again!” Bulma exclaimed as the two women met up at an outdoor eatery after work, both still dressed in their uniforms from the days labor.

“Oh I know, and I’m dying to hear what’s been going on in your life.” Yama winked as she took a seat under the shade of a large tree with indigo foliage. Bulma laughed, giving Yama a look as she took her own seat.

“Well, its been very interesting Yama. _Let me tell you_.” Bulma said and grabbed the menu, narrowing her eyes at the broken universal text written under the Saiyan writing.

“I have _got_ to learn this language. He says things all the time and I have no idea what the hell he’s saying- but it’s hot.” Bulma shrugged, looking up at Yama who glared at her.

“Spill the details.”

“Ah okay, well we have met up a few times since my return. Actually the first two days after I got back.” Bulma thought back to the last encounter with him at her apartment three days prior.

“Go on.”

“Well he took me to the destroyed Tuffle capitol and showed me how the Saiyans annihilated the city.”

“ _Why_ would he take you there?” Yama asked with a confused look.

“History lesson. Anyway we had sex again, outdoors, and it was _fantastic_ ,” Bulma rubbed her chin, “This is such a weird story…”

“I don’t care, tell me!” Yama pleaded as the waitress arrived with water.

“Hang on, I’m going to order,” Bulma said, looking up at the waitress with a smile and pointed to her menu, “I’ll have this.”

  
Yama took a swig of her water and ordered in the Saiyan language, Bulma picking up words she understood here and there _. It was past time to learn…_

“Anyway,” Bulma continued as the waitress departed, “A lot has happened in a very small amount of time. Firstly he granted me access to the engineering lab in the capital to work on my Capsule project.”

“What the hell is a capsule project?”

“It’s a long story, its for a product... but anyway I’ve visited the lab a few times after work. _It is amazing!_ It could really turn into a big deal if I’m successful, I could become a very wealthy woman.” Bulma winked.

“Oh, wow!” Yama exclaimed, leaning on her hand and sipping her water.

“But yes, anyhow I found out from a good friend some details about the kings past. I know it may sound stupid to you, but it bothered me.” Bulma took a long drink of her water as Yama cocked an eyebrow.

“How come?”

“Well, he exterminated entire races of people the same way my people were all killed. He’s murdered millions or billions of people, god only knows! It just bothered me, even if it was under Frieza’s orders.”

“Oh.” Yama said, processing the information.

“But anyway, I told him I needed some time to think about it, and just over an hour later he shows up at _my_ apartment. Of course I was so upset, but he just…I don’t know what it is about him. We ended up talking for a while, then getting drunk.”

“And you slept with him again?”

“Of course.” She smiled.

The two women watched as Saiyan children got into a fight on the other side of the street, screaming out as they kicked and punched each other, one finally biting the others tail and refusing to let go. Bulma sighed and took another drink.

“But I haven’t heard from him at all in a few days. Not sure what’s going on with him. He…I don’t even know if I should talk about this…” Bulma trailed, giving Yama a look of contemplation.

“What?”

“He had a nightmare or something, it really seemed to bother him terribly. He woke up yelling, lashing out. He just seemed utterly horrified when I looked at him, and then he was so distant. He wouldn’t talk about it, he would hardly even look at me.”

“Oh, wow.” Yama mumbled, staring wide eyed at Bulma before looking down at the table, tapping her fingers on her knees.

“I-I don’t know what you already know or don’t, but I guess its probably worth telling you what I know about him. Its not much, alright, but…”

“Tell me!”

“The king, well, _the prince_ was kidnapped when he was seven or so. Frieza used him as a hostage, a leash on the Saiyans if you will, to keep us in line. Those times were bad, Bulma. The economy was terrible, people were scared, and we were practically slaves under Frieza.”

“That... _is bad_.”

“Yeah, it was. Anyhow, I don’t know much about what happened to him during the time he was there, but I can almost guarantee you it wasn’t pleasant. And we all thought he was dead for three years- we were all told Frieza or his men had murdered the prince. Then suddenly the prince was alive, going off to battle against the bastard before he could blow our planet to the twenty-eight hells. And he _actually_ killed Frieza, he ascended, becoming a _gods king_ and saved us all from extermination.” Yama watched as the fighting children ran off down the street, yelling all the while.

“Oh.” Bulma managed, staring distractedly at her fingers. It dawned on her all at once that she was sleeping with the king, the _gods king_ , lounging in her shitty apartment with the savior of the Saiyan people… _one of the most powerful beings in the universe…_

“That’s all I really know.”

“Well, thank you. I guess it helps me put some of the pieces together.” Bulma gave a weak smile as she watched the sun filter through the indigo leaves, small red petals drifting down around her as the wind blew gently through the boughs.

  
  
Bulma walked home from the restaurant, her stomach full and thinking about the conversation she had just had with Yama. She felt confused and disconnected with the world as she thought about her relationship with the king, or _whatever_ it was between them. It felt like it was more than just ‘friends with benefits’, but they _had_ jumped each others bones each time they had met up.

  
She walked down the hall, turning the corner and stared at the front of her door in surprise. _A_ _package_. She made a face as she walked up to it, noticing it only had her name and address on the cardboard face- no return address to be found. She unlocked her door and picked the box up, it was a bit heavy and she sat it back down to slide over the threshold and into the apartment.

She scooted it over her faux wood flooring and closed the door behind her, sitting down next to it with burning curiosity. She removed a small knife from her tool belt to cut the tape off the top of the box and opened the lid with surprise.

Five bottles of _incredibly_ expensive, _incredibly_ fine wine lay nuzzled in copious amounts of packing material. She picked one up and shook her head, the thing cost more than she made in a weeks worth of work and she exhaled. She narrowed her eyes at a small box attached to a note in the corner of the container, picking it up to read one simple line.

_I don’t buy panties._

She laughed, throwing a hand to her forehead and smiling like a fool. _That wonderful bastard…_

She opened the lid of the dainty box, gasping at the earrings that sat atop red silk. She picked one up and inspected the beautiful blue diamond set in filigreed platinum, shaking her head in awe. She put her hand on her mouth, stifling an incredulous laugh as she lay back on the floor. _Ah_ _that man…my king._


	13. The Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta has finally invited Bulma to the palace against the wishes of his mother and the nobility. He shows her around the palace, and the two find themselves alone in the throne room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I really wanted to make a chapter without smut. I really did... but then the throne room happened and I have a thing about throne sex. So here we are. Art later.
> 
> edited 12-17-17
> 
> AMAZING ART commissioned from [Betaruga ](http://betaruga.tumblr.com/) from tumblr!

Over three months had passed since the king and his woman had chanced upon one another, only meeting up once and rarely twice per week, when both of their schedules permitted. They went out frolicking on excursions, about on _history lessons_ as well as a couple of trips off planet for fine wine and dining.

Sometimes, they weren’t able to meet up in a given week, and the latter had been one of those weeks. Vegeta had been occupied off planet with trade agreements that needed to be made in person, ascension training with Nappa, as well as the more important business of securing allies against the Cold dynasty.

The Colds had been surprisingly quiet since the last battle, keeping a low profile and staying far enough away from planet Vegeta to evade detection. Vegeta knew the enemy _had_ to be scheming up something, and the military had stayed on high alert at all times.

The king glared at himself in the mirror, smoothing out the high collar of his black, quilted shirt. He donned a heavy necklace of blood red diamonds set in a dusky metal, _maleatite_ , strictly native to planet Vegeta. He wore a corresponding tail clasp, as well as a ring on his thumb that he had a bad habit of tapping on tables and desks with.

  
He sighed, knowing that this rendezvous with the _keita_ would not be without its drama. He very much wanted to bring her to the palace for the first time, despite knowing good and well his mother would be stalking them, ready to pounce at any moment. He threatened the queen dowager with imprisonment if she so much as made a sideways glance at Bulma, but he knew his mother was too strong willed to leave the two alone.

Unfortunately, Celera also had the backing of the nobles, for when they became aware of the kings _unnatural_ courtship of an alien woman they had shown their strong disapproval to him in private. He wasn’t sure how long they would keep the matter private after tonight, however. _But they won’t say a damn thing to my face this evening; they know better than that shit…_

Vegeta cleared his throat, looking at the time on his handheld and cracking his neck. The woman would arrive at any moment, and he wanted to be outside when she did. He had warned her that the visit would provoke stares, _might_ provoke words, but she had insisted that she didn’t care. She had been itching to see the palace as well, regardless of the judgment she might face. And he wanted her there, oh _gods_ did he want her there in his world.

-

Vegeta stood inside the front gate, arms crossed and leaning in the evening shadows as he watched for Bulma from a copse of _Heider_ trees. The lantern flies circled about the garden, lavender lights blinking on and off as the king slapped them out of his face irritably.

The stars had just begun to glimmer in the sky when the car approached, far at the end of the drive and well past the palace entrance. He narrowed his eyes as the vehicle stopped, just able to make out Bulma’s silhouette in the headlights as it departed. He took off with the least amount of ki he could manage and made his way to her in an instant.

He hovered out of her field of vision, taking in her curves under her winter dress, creamy ivory and low cut- _oh_ and how she was _dripping_ in blue diamonds. She wore them in her ears, on her neck, in the filigreed clip that held her hair over one ear. His gifts to her, the fine stones that suited her the best. He lowered himself behind her and grabbed her waist through the fine material.

“OH my GOD!” Bulma shrieked as he lifted her up suddenly, her arms wrapping around his shoulders in surprise as he carried her up into the night sky with a shimmering flash of golden ki. He kissed her deeply, slowing his ascension and ending with a gentle twirl as he pressed into her longingly.

“ _Oh,_ I missed you too.” Bulma whispered in his ear when he pulled away to nuzzle his face in her neck, exhaling deeply after taking in her _perfect_ scent.

“Makrai tai keita. (Welcome my woman.)”

“Jahai tai vegea, ah arahai’t mehtei ha ek yan? (Hello my king, a beautiful evening is it not?)”

“Your accent is getting better.” He murmured before kissing her neck, nipping at it gently as she sighed contentedly. _Gods, she had missed him..._

“You aren’t worried about people seeing us?”

“It's dark, you know we have shitty night eyes,” He stared at her, taking her in with a fondness he had never felt for another person in all his life, “Damn you woman I want to take you right here.”

“I can tell.” Bulma winked, pushing herself against his stiffening cock.

“ _Vulgar_ woman.” He husked, looking down at the lights of the city below, _his_ city… _his_ woman. _If only…_

He dropped suddenly; Bulma widened her eyes in shock and blasted him with colorful expletives before he landed as light as a feather to the ground below.

“You _asshole_!” She growled angrily, pulling away from him and punching him in the arm to his utter delight.

“That’s _king_ asshole to you.”

“You know dropping like that makes me want to puke!”

“Hmm. Let’s go in.” He replied, glaring back at the palace with a grimace. He could feel his mother’s presence, looming, lurking, _waiting_.

“Yes, absolutely.” Bulma replied with an anxious smile, clutching her bag and staring at the gate. _This is going to be a long night..._

 _“_ My mother _will_ say something, she’s here, _somewhere_.”

“Ah, yeah.” Bulma shrugged, walking beside of him and staring at the ground in deliberation. _Maybe I should have declined....it could end poorly...._

“Don’t you dare look away from her either, let her know you won’t put up with her shit.” Vegeta asserted, kicking the gate open as the guards stood to the side without comment. Bulma gave him an incredulous look.

“Was that necessary?”

“Always. Got to keep them on their toes.”

-

The pair entered the front door of the palace, a guard opening the entry with a bow and shutting it behind the two as they crossed the threshold. Bulma stood in awe at the splendid décor while Vegeta was on lookout for anyone stupid enough to give them a sideways glance. A few nobles left the area as soon as the pair entered, and Vegeta huffed at their insolence. _Not even a bow._

Bulma spun around to gape at the impossibly high cathedral ceilings with spiraling sconces glittering above a dark stone floor. She stared in awe at murals of bloody battles spanning the walls, the crimson blood-drop vines growing amid dangerous looking dark metal flourishes, and at the lavish black curtains that hung from five-meter-tall windows. She turned around to look at the king with wide eyes.

“This is incredible.”  

He nodded his head distractedly, watching the hallways to each side of the long room, _waiting._

Bulma sauntered forward, her steps echoing through the hall as she ran her hands over the fine ebony furniture. She looked up as a pair of generals entered the hall from a side door, stopping their conversation and bowing to their king as they passed, not giving a single glance toward Bulma before their departure.

“Did you tell them not to look at me?”

“No, they just know better.” Vegeta replied, guiding Bulma to the left-handed passage when he heard his name being called from the opposite hallway.

“Rubra, my son, I was searching for you!” Celera chimed in in a singsong voice. Vegeta cringed as he turned to meet his mother with his arms crossed; He was surprised to see she was accompanied by a young Saiyan woman dressed in fine jewels and attire. Bulma stood beside of him awkwardly, clutching her bag tightly at her waist. Celera gave her a sly look before turning to her son.

“I went to visit your chambers, but I soon found you weren’t there. I wanted you to meet our guest, Dandelé, the daughter of Orak Paragus” Celera put her hand on the young woman’s arm and Dandelé smiled prettily. Bulma was surprised to see that she had dark violet hair and smoky grey eyes, traits that weren't common individually, much less seen together.

“Pleased to meet you, but I have…”

“Oh _Rubra_ , you must have wine with her, she traveled all this way.”

“I’m occupied tonight mother.” Vegeta growled as his mother smirked.

“I have sent for her as candidate for queen Rubra, it would be rude of you to turn her down now…”

Vegeta held a hand up to stop his mother from speaking any more, gritting his teeth as Bulma stood wide eyed in shock. A feeling of despair ran down her spine, causing her skin to turn to gooseflesh at the mention of a _queen’s candidate_.

“I am _busy_.” He hissed, getting ready to turn away when Celera grabbed his arm.

“Oh Rubra, please have your servant,” She motioned to Bulma, “Get us some wine while we make our way to the…”

“That’s enough mother,” Vegeta said with control he never knew he had before, “And she’s _not_ my _servant_.”

“Oh, I must have been mistaken, how dreadful of me. Who are you, then?” Celera said, narrowing her eyes at Bulma.

“A friend of the king.” She swallowed, answering as bravely as she could and staring Celera in the eyes. Her heart was beating too hard _, too fast,_ and she knew the Saiyans could certainly hear the nervous thumping.

“Oh, a _friend,_ I see.” Celera smiled coldly as Dandelé stared confusedly at both the king and the alien woman beside of him, finally putting two and two together in disbelief.

“Come on Bulma. _Good evening_ _mother_ , Dandelé.” Vegeta concluded sternly, seizing Bulma by the elbow and pulling her down the dark hallway and _far_ away from Celera.

-

“Well, that was awkward.” Bulma stated miserably as soon as the two were out of earshot of the queen dowager. He gave her a sideways look and continued to guide her through the convoluted hallways with ease.

“It doesn’t surprise me at all. She's so _damn_ petty.”

“When do you have to take a queen? Will it be that Dandelé? She is a beautiful woman.” Bulma blurted out and he stopped in his tracks, pulling her into a dark, empty conversation room used by the nobility.

“Bulma, we’ve talked about this before. I’m going to stall it… as long as I can. And no, _probably_ not her.” He made a face, feeling more uncomfortable talking about this subject than he liked. Bulma looked down at her purse, trying to fight the tears welling up in her eyes. Celera had got to her, but she would be damned if she admitted it to him.

“Don’t worry about it tonight.” He replied, looking away from her as she turned her face up to him.

“I’m not.” She replied quietly, trying to keep the hitch in her voice to a minimum.

“You’re a liar.” He growled, thinking about how he should have ended this months ago for _her_ sake. But he was selfish, he was jealous, and he was _captivated_ by her. He couldn’t have let her go if he wanted to. _But fuck it, I’ll have to…sooner than later. Right?  
_

Bulma sighed, gazing back up at him with clear eyes as he gave her a sideways look.

“I’m not, I’m really okay.”

“We should go.”

“Yes, I guess we should _Rubra_.” She smiled playfully, and he rolled his eyes  before leading her back out into the hall.

“ _Yes_. My given name is Rubra.” He murmured before coming up to a large double door with a touch orb to its side.

“I like it, but I’m kind of disappointed you never told me before.” Bulma replied with a grin as she watched the king place his palm on the orb. As soon as he touched it, the latches popped and the doors opened to allow entrance. He looked back at her unamused and stood to the side, motioning for her to go before him.

“I hate that _damned_ name. The first-born prince always retains the right to be called by his surname, and the only one that calls me _Rubra_ is _her_.”

“Oh it’s the tapestry room!” Bulma exclaimed, ignoring Vegeta and gazing around wide eyed at the illuminated tapestries woven with the finest fibers, as well as gold, platinum and _maleatite_ thread.

“Oh my…” She trailed, gazing at the dazzling woven artworks which depicted different aspects of Saiyan history, including the Oozaru attack on the Tuffle capitol. 

“How old are these?”

“The ones in the front were made after my father became king, just after the palace was constructed. The ones in the back are much more recent.” He replied, following her with his arms behind his back.

She walked through the gallery, staring at each piece before making her way to the end where she noticed a tapestry depicting a bearded man and the queen holding a fat baby. The man looked very similar to Vegeta, and she glanced over to him with a quizzical look.

“This is your father?”

“Of course.”

“You look just like him,” She mused, pointing to the fat baby, “And this- is you? You were huge!”

“ _Tch_.” Vegeta uttered, crossing his arms and glaring silently at the opposite wall. He had promised he would show the woman to the tapestry room, but he didn’t want to stay any longer than he had to.

Bulma turned around to look at the final tapestry in the room, the newest out of all of them, hung in the center of the back wall. She walked up to it with wide eyes, glaring at what looked like Vegeta, but with pale gold hair instead of his typical rusty black. The figure stood bloodied and radiating ki, decked in the finest armor and standing on top of a dead Arcosian- which she assumed was Frieza.

“They got my armor all wrong, the artist said it was for aesthetic purposes or some shit. It’s actually the kings armor, and I was a prince at the time.” He shrugged, glaring at the door as Bulma gazed at the tapestry with parted lips.

“So this is your ascended form?” She mused, gently running her fingers over the intricate threading in awe, then looking back at him questioningly, “Why have you never shown me?”

“You never asked.” He replied nonchalantly as Bulma cocked an eyebrow.

“Show me, I want to see it.”

“Not here.”

“Why not?”

“Because it requires a tremendous amount of energy _keita_.”

“So?”

“I could blow the tapestries right off the wall, and no one would be too pleased with that.”

Bulma rolled her eyes, placing a manicured finger to his chest and narrowing her eyes.

“ _You’re_ lying now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You are. I can tell.”

“I’ll show you in time you impatient woman. Don’t you worry about that.” He murmured, grabbing her ass and pulling her close to him. _Oh, he would show her soon enough…_

“Is that so?” She whispered, heavy lidded and grinning coquettishly.

“Yes, it is so.” He purred in her ear, biting the cartilage ever so gently with his sharp canines. She pressed into him longingly as he breathed on her neck, suddenly pulling away from her as she watched perplexedly. He turned his back to her and motioned for her to follow.

“Lets go.”

“ _You_ are a tease.” She griped, grabbing the end of his tail and pulling it slightly. He made a face but didn’t speak a word of complaint. _If she only knew how irritating that was…damn keita._

_-_

The second area he wanted to show her was the throne room. It was typically an energetic and bustling room during the day, but at this time of night it would be empty. _Delightfully empty._ And he planned to take advantage of the situation.

“This is where a lot of my day to day shit takes place,” He announced as she walked over the threshold and into the square throne room, “Although the throne is more of a figurehead at this point. But, sometimes I'll sit up there above every piss-on in here and ignore half of what they say.”

"When you want to be an asshole?"

"I'm always an asshole." He mumbled, locking the door behind him as Bulma looked over the room. It was less ornante than some of the other areas in the palace, and to her it looked as if it were made to suit Vegeta’s taste.

The walls were split, pale on top and dark grey on the bottom, broke up by flat panels on the lower half. Arched windows and crimson drapery adorned the walls, the floors a dark charcoal and onyx colored stone set in rectangular sections. A crimson runner ran from the door to the throne, which sat elevated and backed by a great arched window with multiple panes, as well as a much larger version of the thick crimson drapes to either side of it. Dark arches split the room in thirds, fine tables and chairs sat to the left and right of the room, while the center was open aside from the throne all the way in the back.

The throne sat lonely and intimidating under the recessed illumination, dark and massive, draped in thick red cloth with the royal crest embroidered on each side. The top of the throne flared out into jagged points like corrupted sun rays, the center of which bore the Saiyan royal emblem in solid platinum.

Vegeta sauntered up to his throne, running a hand over the cloth and then taking a seat, his legs splayed out and his head resting on his fist as he watched his woman approach. Bulma walked up the stairs slowly, gracefully as her dress trailed behind her. She placed her hand on the dark stone of the armrest, looking down at the king who gazed up at her yearningly. He nodded, motioning for her to come to him and she obeyed readily.

He tugged at the cloth tie around her waist, loosening it easily and letting the length fall to the ground. She reached up, pulling the dress apart, revealing her round breasts and letting it fall into a gauzy puddle at her feet. He sat back and sighed, admiring her body, nude aside from her heels, silky arm warmers and jewelry. She grinned as she took in his marvel of her body, and she planned to reward him for his admiration.

“Gesshing. (Perfect.)” He murmured as she fell to her knees on the high pile runner, pulling at the laces of his pants and looking him in the eyes without a word. He glared down at her as she freed his cock, already stiffening in her cold hands. He inhaled deeply as she took it in her warm mouth, the sensation causing it to jerk and harden around her tongue as he ran a hand through her hair.

She continued to suck on the head, stroking the shaft and licking the underside of his cock as he groaned in pleasure. She loved being able to make him melt, to control him without his knowledge. She eventually pulled away and ran her fingernails gently underneath it with a grin as he sighed, gazing at her with longing for more.

She pulled herself up to straddle him and he instinctively reached up for her breasts, squeezing them and thumbing the nipples as she reached down to kiss him. She ran her hands through his thick hair, her slit hovering right above the head of his cock and driving him mad with lust. She had him _just_ where she wanted him.

"Do you want me?" She whispered as he breathed out.

"I do want you _keita_." He answered quietly as she lowered herself softly, grabbing his weeping cock and rubbing it on her clit with a moan. He licked his lips, his pulse rising as he watched her throw her head back while using him to pleasure herself, it was all he could do not to buck right into her and fuck her wildly.

She continued for a short time before guiding his cock into her ready slit, slowly, _deliberately_ pressing down until he disappeared inside of her. He had only recently let her on top, and she was taking advantage of the new allowance with uninhibited enthusiasm. She moaned, and he exhaled as she rose unhurriedly, taking her time and staring heavy lidded into his dark eyes. He pinched her nipples roughly, eliciting a cry of pleasure from her as she began to ride him faster. And _oh_ , how his cock arched to hit her g-spot _perfectly_. It drove her mad with ecstasy as she hit her pleasure point over and over.

“Oh tai vegea. (Oh, my king.)” She sighed as he reached up to nip her lower lip, resting his hands on her hips as he thrust into her, matching her rhythm with ease.

“Vegeta, ah, fuck!” She cried as he pounded into her harder, gritting his teeth and breathing heavily.

“Lauré! Ve guit oit quait grat’ka zeda fa vada aye yetch tai beilé! (Louder! I want the whole fucking palace to hear you scream my name!)” He commanded and she obeyed, moaning his name louder and louder with each heavy thrust until finally her pleasure spilled over, causing her to climax with a hazy shudder, melting into him with a satisfied moan before he slowed his pace and kissed her hard.

He leaned back, watching her as she breathed heavily, a thin sheen of sweat on her flushed face that made her absolutely exquisite.

“Do you still want to see it?”

“What?” She asked confusedly, her brain still in a fog of lust. He raised her off of him with a groan and proceeded to lift her up, sitting her down on the throne with her ass on the edge. He stood in front of her, his hands on each side of the armrest as she unbuttoned his shirt, running her hands over his hard muscles before he pulled it off and threw it to the floor with abandon.

“This.” He growled, raising his ki and ascending without an electrical aura. He had been training himself to cut back on the damaging force _just_ for this purpose. She glared at him in shock.

“Oh _my_ god,” She whispered, touching his pale gold hair gingerly, marveling over the instantaneous change, “That’s incredible.”

“I know.” He husked as she lifted her right foot to the arm rest to allow him easier access. He grinned at her as she stared into his cyan eyes, biting her lower lip seductively.

“Fuck me _hard_.” She whispered as he guided his cock into her and did _just_ as he was told.

-

Bulma was soon panting his name desperately, grabbing onto him for leverage as he pounded into her. She eventually had to wrap her legs around his taut waist to keep from being pushed back from the sheer force of his thrusts.

Bulma sighed deeply as the king picked her up, supporting her ass with his hands as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed his neck as he panted into hers, still pounding into her at a tireless pace, still pushing into her g-spot over and over and _over_.

Bulma wasn't surprised as she swooned with another orgasm, gripping his shoulders tightly as she shuddered around his cock in pure ecstasy. The sensation of her second orgasm sent the Saiyan over the edge, and he lowered his head to hers as she panted from her rapture.

“Gods damn!” He growled as he felt his climax rising, giving her one last forceful push before releasing himself into her with a shuddering groan, slowing his pace to a stop as he rode out the intense pleasure that burst through his groin and torso, causing his body to stiffen in ecstasy.

“Vegeta, you are _incredible_.” She sighed as he exhaled, dropping his ki and pulling out of her slowly. He sat her back down on the throne, and ran his hands through her silky hair, lowering his head to kiss her deeply.

“Woman, you think I don’t know that?” He hissed, pulling away from her and lacing his pants back up. She threw her head back and laughed, and he threw her dress at her playfully.

“I miss your panties.” He commented, sitting up on the armrest and swaying his tail while Bulma stood to put her dress back on.

“You _would_.” She griped, folding the dress over her breasts and fumbling at the strip of cloth to tie it back together with. After she tied it successfully she turned around to glare at him as he slid down into the seat with his legs and tail hanging over the armrest.

“Is this the first time you’ve had sex on your throne?” She asked, narrowing her eyes as he gave a rare bark of laughter.

“That’s not for _little, insolent_ alien women to know.” He said, leaning his head on his hand and giving her a roguish grin.

“That means _yes_. At least I hope it was cleaned up since then.” She rolled her eyes, picking up his shirt and mimicking his previous throw. He caught it effortlessly, sitting up and putting it on but leaving it unbuttoned.

“Well, it’s the first time I fucked anyone in my ascended state.” He shrugged and she made a face at him. He motioned for her to approach, and she sat on his lap, kissing his cheek as he narrowed his eyes at her.

“How come? Why haven't you done this before?”

“Because I didn’t have as fine control over it.”

“Oh, so you mean you could have hurt me?”

“I _could_ have, but I’ve trained myself to be less… _intense_. I wanted to see what it would feel like.” He said matter-of-factually and Bulma laughed.

“Well I’m glad I got to take your ascended virginity. I hope it was good.” She smiled, leaning her head on him as he rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go up to the top, I want you to see my chambers.” He announced after a few moments of _letting_ her lay on him, sweeping her up and placing her on her feet. He would _never_ admit to it but he was more than pleased to show her the backdrop of his personal life, and the more pleasant aspects of his world with her.

“Oh yes! And can I take a bath? All I have is that shitty shower and I’ve been longing to soak in a _real_ tub.” She sighed, walking with him to the exit.

“Of course.” He replied, turning to her and raising an eyebrow as he unlocked the door. How he wished she could stay with him more often, such a woman deserved _all_ the riches in the world… if only she were a Saiyan, none of the fuss over her would be an issue. _Gods, If only she were a Saiyan, I would take her as my queen._

 


	14. Confession Under Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The king shows Bulma to his chambers, and makes a confession to her on the balcony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been 84 years...
> 
> Sorry it took so long friends, haven't been having the creative inspiration until the past few days! This chapter was longer but I decided to slice it in half because I felt like it needed to end where it does. Hope you guys like toothaches, because this chapter is disgustingly sweet. ;>
> 
> Edited 12-17-17

“These…” Vegeta trailed, opening the large solid door and letting Bulma pass in front of him, “are my chambers.”

“Gorgeous.” Bulma breathed, looking around at the large conversation area, surrounded by rooms with closed doors and an opening into a den, dominated by a large window in the back.

She stared up at the beautiful cross vaulted ceiling which made the room seem even more spacious; warm globes hung down from the middle of each of the crossing arches and cast an enchanting glow over the chamber. The décor was very much like that on the battleship, pale grey walls, thick crimson curtains and upholstery, and flooring of the finest ebony wood- décor in which Vegeta seemed to be very fond of.

Vegeta leaned on the wall next to the door as she walked around the room, running her hands over the fine fabrics, gazing at the curious decor and then looking over her shoulder at him when she reached the first door on the left.

“Go on. You don’t have to ask me, _gods._ ”

Bulma turned the knob and stared wide eyed as the light came on automatically, it was the bathroom, larger than any she had ever seen and _spotless_. The floors were a light stone, with every so many tiles inlaid with small fossils in the middle. Plush rugs lay at the front of the basin and walk in shower, both done in slate grey mosaic and _both_ opulently oversized. 

She looked to the right to find a gorgeous free standing tub in the recess, sitting under a large skylight window that revealed the night sky above. A huge fossil of some sort of shelled creature hung above the tub, inset in the mosaic walls, and succulents hung from staggered recesses along the entirety of the alcove.

“Oh my god this room, this _tub_!” Bulma declared, putting her balled hands to the side of her face and looking back at Vegeta with a expression he couldn’t help but grin at, despite himself.

“The décor is hideous, my mother’s doing when she resided here. Needs to be redone.” He mumbled as she shook her head.

“No, my god it’s amazing.” She answered, stepping over the threshold with a beaming smile.

“The switch for the heater is on the left of the door.” He advised as she turned away giddily, shutting the door behind her with a soft ‘ _snick_ ’.

He sighed, rolling his neck and pushing himself off the wall. He shook his head as he heard Bulma humming within the washroom, the water tuning her out slightly while he made his way to the desk in the back of his chambers.

-

Bulma sighed contentedly, laying back in the warm water which was absolutely brimming with sweet smelling bubbles from a bottle she had found under the sink basin. She knew it wasn’t Vegeta’s _of course_ , but tried to tell herself that it _must_ have been his mother’s from when she lived in this place, and not one of his former lovers...

 She closed her eyes, relaxing her body fully and sinking into the water as the vent above poured hot air over her, making the lavish bathroom feel like a luxury sauna. How she had longed for a good soak in a bubble bath, and _what_ a way to get one. She had thought the bathroom in the  _Palaibra_ was nice, but this one topped any she had ever seen.

-

Vegeta sat at his desk, swaying his tail and writing out a note for one of his generals when he heard Bulma start singing from the bathroom. He knitted his eyebrows and continued writing until she hit a high note, making him roll his eyes and tap the pen against the paper agitatedly.

“You _can’t_ sing Bulma.”

“I know, but it’s still fun!” She called out, smiling to herself as she lifted her legs in and out of the bubbly water contentedly.

“ _I dreamed a dream in times gone by! When hope was high and life worth living_!”

“ _Gods_ what is that wretched song?” He growled, putting his pen down and cracking his neck.

“It’s from a _musical_.” She shouted, not hearing an immediate answer from him and deciding he had lost interest.

“What the fuck’s a musical?” he asked, startling her as he opened the door forcefully.

“You scared the hell out of me!” She laughed, picking up a handful of foam and blowing it at him. He raised an eyebrow and lifted himself up to sit on the basin as she continued to sing a few more lines before stopping, looking down in thought and then up to him woefully.

“A musical is something we had on Earth… I guess like a play, but with music and singing.”

“Well, that sounds stupid. Gods that smells like the shit my mother likes.” He made a face and Bulma smiled to herself. _The bottle wasn't from one of his lovers...good._

“Well, I guess it was hers I found it under the sink... _but_ , musicals were _not_ stupid! I forgot the rest of this song though. Something about a tiger at night, and thunder…and, I just forgot... It’s been so long.” She sighed, laying back into the dissipating froth.

What the fuck’s a _tiger_?”

“It’s an animal, orange with dark stripes, bigger than a _Kodrin_ and with more teeth.” She smiled at him, still wracking her brain for the lyrics to a song she had loved so many years ago.

“How could I forget those words?” She asked herself, knowing deep down that she would never be able to recover the lyrics. As far as the universe was concerned, they didn’t exist anymore.

“Well, I for one am glad you did.” He made a face at her, taking in her body that was being revealed to him through the disappearing bubbles.

“Oh c’mon. Am I really _that_ bad?” She laughed, as he rolled his eyes.

“Yes, you really are _that_ bad.” He replied, staring down at the rug and tapping his fingers on the basin.

“How’s your research on the _Capsule project_ going?”

“Oh! Yes, I meant to tell you about it! It’s just been a little crazy tonight…”

He continued to stare down and waved his hand for her to continue.

“It’s been going pretty well for the amount of time I get to spend in the lab. I’ve discovered how the scope barrier works, which was a total breakthrough!”

He glared at her blankly as she spoke of the science involved, what was to come next and other tidbits that meant absolutely nothing to him.

“Well, I didn’t get any of that but I assume it’s all… _positive_.”

“Yes, it’s going well.” Bulma laughed as he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Do you need more time in the lab?”

“I can’t get more time; I spend all my free time there when I’m not with you.”

“Bulma you can quit your fucking job, I’m not going to…let you go without.” He stated awkwardly, tapping his thumb ring against the basin to Bulma’s displeasure.

“Quit tapping! Ah, and I’m not going to have you _keep me up_ , I’ve got a job and a responsibility to…”

“To the crown,” He interrupted, still tapping as she narrowed her eyes, “and the crown will pay you.”

“ _Vegeta_.”

“ _Keita_.”

“I...”

“Need to get this to work.” He stated stubbornly as she sighed. She finally stood, stepping out of the tub and grabbing a towel from the rack on the adjacent wall. He breathed in deeply at seeing her dripping, slick wet body, but quelled his lusty desires as she dried off. He had other things in mind for tonight, and besides, he knew her enough by now to know she wasn’t much for another romp after the rough sex they had earlier.

Bulma reached for her dress, laid out beside him on the basin with her jewelry. He grabbed her arm with his tail and pulled her over to him, reaching down and kissing her deeply with his hands in her hair.

She sighed, leaning into him and putting her hands on his shoulders as she reciprocated, nipping at his lip as he slid his tongue over hers. He didn’t want to let her go, but he needed to stop before he got carried away. He kept reminding himself that he had _more important_ business to attend to tonight.

“ _Vegeta_.” Bulma whispered as he pulled away from her, gazing at her heavy lidded and tugging at her hair softly before letting her go. She gazed up at him with impossibly blue eyes, smiling gently before he looked away.

“Get dressed.” He murmured before sliding off the basin and closing the bathroom door behind him, leaving her confused and standing with her dress hanging over her arm. _What is his deal?_

-

Vegeta paced the room as he waited for Bulma to get dressed. It felt like it was taking her ages, but he knew that he was overthinking the situation. He wrapped his tail around his waist, a habit that he had when his blood was up or nerves on end, and in his case, it was the latter. _Damned woman making me a madman…_

He glared at her immediately when the door opened and she stared at him confusedly- he stood with his arms crossed, tail wrapped and legs splayed.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, closing the door behind her and eyeing him with suspicion. Vegeta stared back at her a moment, his eyebrows knitted and his fists still balled before he exhaled, lowering his tail and shoulders and putting his hands behind his back.

“Nothing. _Fuck_. Just, follow me.” He grumbled, striding to the bedroom and throwing the door open. Bulma watched him incredulously as he made his way into the room, and she finally followed with an odd feeling, a feeling of dread? A feeling of anticipation? He was acting so strange all of the sudden… _but what is this feeling?_

-

Bulma made her way through the dark bedroom and found that the door to the balcony was partially ajar. She wandered over to it and opened it the rest of the way, finding Vegeta leaning over the stone railing of the balcony outside the door.

He swayed his tail as she approached, but didn’t look up as she took a place beside of him, leaning over and gazing at the shining city below. The view was amazing, the streets bustling with cars and the skies with passenger ships. Attractive sleek buildings spiraled into the sky and twinkled with countless lights in the cool winter night.

“All of this is mine.” He murmured, still glaring at the metropolis. She watched silently as the lights flickered in the traffic far below, leaning her head on her arms and sighing. She could never imagine what burdens and responsibilities he dealt with every single day, not even having an inkling of what it would be like to be a leader of an entire people, an _entire planet_.

“All of this was my fathers, now it’s mine. And its developing rapidly, every single day we expand. Before my father, none of this existed.”

Bulma looked over at him as he continued to stare off.

“This city sprung up rapidly after the Saiyans gained control of the planet. Other cities cropped up around the globe, all lead by nobles, many of them generals in my father’s army. We were never allowed to develop or progress like this when the Tuffles ruled the planet.”

“I used to stand here with him, well, he would lift me up on the railing before I mastered my ki. He would always tell me stories of what it was like before all of _this_ , how the Saiyans scrambled in the dirt to get by. How he rallied all the Saiyan nations together as their king, how they all took the Tuffle cities closest to their hovels on the night of the gods moon.”

Vegeta sighed and gave Bulma a sideways glance.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“I’m glad you are.” Bulma replied with a blank face, knowing he would clam up and get angry if she smiled or acted too interested.

Vegeta huffed, looking back down at the energetic capital.

“I always admired him, but really I knew so little about him. And by the time I met him as an adult, we had…hours before he died…gods damn it. I didn’t get to talk to him, I mean… I just…” Vegeta trailed, hitting the stone and turning his back to the railing to lean on his elbows, crossing his arms and staying silent for some time. Finally, he swallowed, staring down at the balcony floor.

“Bulma, what are- _were_  the…marriage customs of your people?” Vegeta asked her suddenly, still glaring at the stone below his feet. Bulma widened her eyes, a wave of shock rolling through her body and making her heart race. _What the hell was he asking about_ that _for?_

“Oh well, wow,” She stammered as she absently watched lines of traffic moving below, “The couple would date to see if they were compatible. If they were, after some time the man would usually ask for the woman’s father for her hand in marriage, and then give her an engagement ring, as they would be engaged to be married.”

“The couple would plan the ceremony; at the ceremony, the woman would wear a ridiculous wedding dress and then the couple would exchange the wedding rings, here" She pointed to her ring finger,  "sometimes vows. There’s more to it than that but, that’s all…uh, I can think of right now.”

Bulma swallowed, taking slow breaths to try and slow her heart. She knew Vegeta had probably already heard it thumping along, betraying her composure … _damn it._

They stood in silence again as she composed herself, and he managed to formulate his words without sounding like a moron.

“The ceremony is different for our people, depending on their class. For nobles and royalty, it usually begins with the parents choosing the mates. The ceremony is carried out soon after the proposal offer, and the wedding itself is relatively simple. The sacred text is read with the twining, followed by the bedding ceremony and, for the guests, a big fucking party."

“What’s _the twining_?”

“A stupid name for an intimate gesture,” He made a face, glaring at her from the corners of his eyes, “The wrapping of tails and the binding the wrists, the right hand for each. The binding is only broken at the time of bedding.”

“Oh.” Bulma answered, her heart sinking at the mention of tails being involved. It was still a sore spot for her, as she felt she lost a good deal of communication with the Saiyans, and her lover- due to her lack of one.

“It’s all ridiculous shit. I don’t even know why I mentioned it.” He said dismissively, staring up at glowing band of the galaxy which split the night sky with millions of pallid stars. How many of those suns had he seen up close, how many planets did their warmth touch had he destroyed? And _why_ was he trying to focus on anything at all but this _stupid_ conversation…

“A lot of customs can seem pretty ridiculous, I guess.” She smiled, exhaling a plume of vapor into the chill. She joined him to stare up at the band of stars, watching in silence for several minutes before she shivered from the cool night air.

“Vegeta, I’m going to go in. I’m getting really cold.” She finally said, making to turn when he lowered his arms, glaring at her almost worriedly and parting his lips. She stared at him for a moment that felt like years as his onyx eyes bore into hers.

 _Gods should I even tread down this path..._ he thought to himself before opening his mouth.

“Bulma, I’m shitty with words and terrible…with _this_. But, I just- _I love you_.” He murmured, as she stared at him with wide eyes. _Did I just hear him right?_

“If things were different, If…” He trailed, giving her a sheepish glance which looked foreign and almost _bleak_ on his face. _Gods…  
_

She knew what he was going to say and lifted her hand to stop him.

“I love you too, Vegeta. I have for a while now.” She replied sincerely, still in shock that she would hear _those_ three words come out of his mouth. It wasn’t like him to express these emotions, and tonight had been a double whammy of them.

And _ah_ , her emotions were running wild as well. She wanted to hug him, to giddily hold his hands and kiss him and tell him over and over that she loved him too, _oh how she did_. She knew, however, that he would balk at such actions, and didn’t want to ruin the rare moment they shared.

"I just wanted you to know. I just..." He trailed with a shrug, lacking for words and trying to throw off the foolish feeling that had made itself apparent in his ruddy cheeks.

Vegeta looked away from her for a moment, a million thoughts running through his head before he grabbed Bulma’s wrist, pulling her over to him and running one hand through her hair as he placed his lips on hers, kissing her passionately. He couldn’t think of anything to say that was better then _that._

Bulma grabbed him tightly as he lifted her to sit on the railing, not letting go of her warmth or their shared kiss as he placed her gently on the stone. She had learned by this point to trust him, and although she was still wary of heights, she knew he would never let her fall.

She nipped his upper lip, rubbing her nose against his as he sighed, breaking off the kiss and burying his face in the crook of her neck, his eyes closed, arms wrapped around her waist and holding tightly. Never in his life did he think he could ever love a woman like this, or feel comforted by her touch, by her wonderful scent, simply by _her_.

Bulma buried her face in his thick hair, breathing in his comforting, earthy musk and closing her eyes as she held him. Vegeta had never let her do this before and she was filled with a powerful elation as he stayed put and let her hold him.

She suddenly remembered back to when she was sixteen. She wanted nothing more than a boyfriend, someone to love her like the couples in the silly movies she watched with her friends, or like the lovers in the sappy paperback books she swooned over. But now, after all these years, she had finally gotten her wish, at least to a certain extent. _But this...this was better than anything a silly girl could conjure._ She was in love with a king, and he loved her back.

-

The two stayed locked together for some time, neither saying a word but both quietly, gladly accepting each others embrace. He was the first one to pull away, looking up at her with dark eyes before lifting her by her waist and setting her down beside of him.

“Stay with me tonight.” He stated, looking away from her as she stared.

“That probably wouldn’t be wise...”

 “Fuck them.”

“Well, since we’re going for reckless abandon now, I agree-  _fuck them_.” She giggled as he huffed, cracking his neck and walking to the door.

“That’s more like it, _keita._ ” Vegeta growled, throwing open the door, more then pleased that he had gotten that particular confession off of his chest. Speaking of marriage and love were certainly _not_ his forte.


	15. Finding Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta has a nightmare that torments him through his day, Bulma comforts him as he reveals some surprising details.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to Jbae654 and Dragondancer28 (both from tumblr) for going over this chapter and giving me great suggestions! You two have been a great help!
> 
> *There are dream sequences of character deaths in this chapter, just a little warning in case that bothers you!   
>    
> *Thank you all so much for reading so far! You all are the best!
> 
> Edited 12/17/17

Vegeta woke up in shock, gasping and glancing around the room wildly as reality quickly settled in. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, his heartbeat slowing down as he regained his composure, glancing over at Bulma. She was still sleeping soundlessly under the linens, unaware of the commotion to her right. _Good. Let her sleep, she doesn't need to witness this embarrassing spectacle…_

The nightmares had been occurring more frequently over the past few months. His only guess to the root of their cause was from stress, anger, and _worry_ … apprehension for the next attack from the Cold dynasty. He feared that the attack would come swiftly, without warning, taking out the major cities on the planet. Or in the worst-case scenario, the entire planet. _And his woman. He worried about her as well._..

He pushed his sheets down and stepped out onto the cold floor, walking over to the window and peering out at the sun peeking over the dunes far beyond the city. Another day, the planet was still intact…the Colds still in hiding.

He looked over his shoulder at the woman, curled up in a ridiculous ball on her side, holding the sheets up to her face like she was freezing. She was such a physically pathetic creature _, but ah gods,_ he loved her so…

Admitting his love to her has been a grueling thing, he felt it would have been easier for him to fight kakarot in the desert sun for a day than to admit something so... _intimate_. But it was a confession he needed to make, a truth he wanted her to know.

Vegeta grimaced, he would be meeting kakarot in the training yard soon, and he wasn't looking forward to dealing with his cheery demeanor. He grabbed a pair of training pants from his trunk and sighed, the nightmare playing out in his head again.

-

_She was smiling up at him, down on her knees in the tall grass. Her eyes were more blue than usual, her hair much longer…and she had, a tail? It seemed off, but it was right. The tail was right._

_He blinked at her as she licked her lips, motioning for him to come to her, and he obeyed her. He had learned that she was one to get her way, one way or another. And though he was dominant, he was king…was she not his queen? Was she not a ruler as well?_

_The sky above was grey, cloudy, drizzling, but she didn’t care. She was wearing his shirt…a white undershirt, untied at the top and revealing a good part of her bust, the sleeves too long, the chest much too large…but she was beautiful. She was still wearing all her jewelry, all blue diamonds and platinum, filigreed patterns and twisting leaves- and when she put her left hand on his bare stomach, he saw she was wearing a ring… his ring._

_He knelt to her, taking her head in his hands and placing his lips on hers, rolling his tongue over hers, feeling her push herself onto him. The rain began to pour as he leaned back into the grass, and she pulled herself up to straddle him, rubbing his cock through the thin shorts he had put on after his bath._

_Her hair was now soaked, matted to her head and neck, trailing in teal lines across her forehead as she grinned, leaning down over him and nuzzling his neck as he grabbed her ass, lacing his tail with hers as she began to whisper in his ear._

_“Geta…my… I’m…with…” Was all he could make out through the pouring rain, and he grimaced at her when she pulled back._

_“What?” He asked, his heartbeat speeding up, whatever she had to tell him it was important…_

-

Bulma woke up later that morning in a sea of sheets and the softest linens she had slept on since she was tucked away in her bedroom at the Capsule compound. She yawned, stretching and rubbing her bare legs and feet over the lush sheets, enjoying the feeling with sleep swollen eyes and a grin. She still wasn't over the fact that her king had confessed his love to her... it was still sinking in.

She blinked in the morning sunlight that streamed through the pale shades, looking over to her right and not seeing Vegeta. _No surprise there…_ Bulma grabbed her handheld from the nightstand, tapping the screen and sighing at the time it displayed _. Nine fifty two in the fucking morning. Vegeta has probably been up for four hours or so…._

She finally rolled off the bed, placing her feet on the cool stone below and pulled the shirt he had leant her down over her ass, the bottom of her cheeks just peeking out below the hem. Thankfully she had an extra pair of panties in her emergency capsule, so she didn't have to walk around bare bottomed.

She padded through the bedroom and out into the conversation area, looking around for any sign of her king, but sighing as she realized he wasn’t in the chambers at all. 

"All right, I guess I'm here by myself." She murmured to herself, making her way to the bathroom to tidy up. She brushed her teeth, washed her face and smoothed her hair out before walking back out into the open room, rolling onto the couch with a bored exhalation.

She grabbed a piece of fruit from the basket on the table and made a face at its tartness while she chewed, eating it despite not particularly caring for its taste. She looked around for something to occupy her time when she noticed a bizarre note written in Vegeta’s perfect handwriting, lying under a pen on the tea table.

 

Manifesto? What the fuck.

 

To General Tamot: The policy is clear. Let them fear it.

 

We won’t back down.

 

~~Lights….~~

A brigadier, two weeks. Shit… Maizen?

 

Turles. Who the fuck recruited that guy? Find who did.

 _ End him.  _ And Turles.

Training.

_~~Mother.~~ _

 

Bulma blinked at the last line, chewing the crispy fruit and knitting her eyebrows together. She shook her head and set the cryptic note back on the table, finishing her fruit and putting the core in the floor to pick up later. She stretched out along the length of the couch, wondering about what she should do about the Capsule Project, when the chamber door opened.

-

_She rolled her eyes playfully at him, leaning back down and holding his face in her hands…an odd gesture, one that he would normally have recoiled from, but not in this moment._

_“Vegeta, my king. I’m pregnant with the heir.” She said again, pulling back from him and now wearing a long cotton gown, her belly swollen and her hands cradling it protectively. He widened his eyes, glaring down at her, now laying on his bed, their bed…dry, warm and with a gentle smile._

_“What?” He asked, shaking his head confusedly, marveling at her changed physique, a strong sense of pride and protectiveness welling up within him._

_“What are we going to name him?” She asked, the sunlight gleaming through the window on her dazzling hair._

_“Sure as hells not Rubra.” He retorted, knowing that this was normal, natural now. No surprise or shock was left in him. She laughed, throwing her head back as she often did and swaying her tail…that was not something she often did. She didn’t have a tail…but of course she does, its normal?…_

_“We won’t name him Rubra. I was thinking of my grandfather’s name actually…”_

_“He’s going to have a proper Saiyan name, woman.”_

_“Why? Is he going to be a proper Saiyan, Vegeta? Will he be strong like you, or weak like me? Does that bother you, what if he is inferior? Unable to hold the throne because of his weakness.”_

_She stared at him blankly as the room turned dark._

-

From his vantage point, Vegeta couldn’t see Bulma on the couch when he entered his chambers. Bulma held her breath and ogled him as he passed by, wearing only a white pair of trousers, soaked with sweat like the rest of his body. _He was training…_

He made his way over to his desk, picking up his handheld and scrolling through the screen with a scowl before entering the bathroom, not quite closing the door. Bulma listened as the water from the shower started to run, the pair of training pants making a damp thud as they hit the stone floor.  She grinned to herself as she stepped off the couch and made her way to the bathroom door, standing and listening to him enter the water before making her way in.

Bulma took her shirt and panties off and threw them on the floor before stepping into the bathroom, already starting to fill up with steam despite the heaters. She tiptoed to the walk-in shower, but before she could cross over into it he growled.

“Don’t think you can sneak up on me woman.”

“Damn it Vegeta!” She exclaimed playfully, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Unlike you, I can hear everything. And smell that _Gaiyaba_ fruit all over you.” He mumbled, relishing her touch and her breasts pushing up against his back.

“I know.” She smiled into his back as he rinsed his hair in the stream of warm water. She lowered a hand across his abs, trailing her fingers down to his hips, and grabbing his member with the other hand.

“Did you know this was coming?” She grinned as he cracked his neck.

“Yes.” He smirked, reaching his head back to breath in the scent of her hair. _Honey sweet...my Bulma._

-

_He glared back at her in anger, watching a single tear fall down her emotionless face just before feeling a frigid breeze fill the room._

_“What are you talking about? He’s a Saiyan like you, like me…” Vegeta trailed as the day turned to night outside. He could hear a commotion from the city and went outside to the balcony to investigate._

_His eyes widened in shock as he watched the capital burn below, burning as if it had been on fire for several hours instead of only a moment. He looked back at Bulma in slow motion, but instead saw only Frieza, standing right behind him with a grin._

_“Oh king Vegeta, that’s your new title is it? How utterly ridiculous!” Frieza laughed, shaking his head. Vegeta looked down to see Bulma underneath his splayed foot, not breathing…shorter hair, no tail, not pregnant, she was as she was in reality…reality? This is reality…_

_“Your woman doesn’t have long to live Vegeta. Everyone is so ashamed of her anyway, it would be doing her a favor to put her out of her misery right now.” Frieza hissed, pressing his foot down on her chest with a force that made Vegeta boil over with rage._

_“Don’t you fucking DARE!” Vegeta roared, rearing back to strike the tyrant before his arms were restrained. He breathed out raggedly as he looked from one side, held by king Cold, and the other…by his mother…his mother?_

_“Celera, what the FUCK are you doing?!” Vegeta raged, kicking out, gnashing his teeth, trying to fight anyway he possibly could but being unable to. He had no power in his body, his muscles weak and pathetic…_

-

The water bore down on his chest and Vegeta groaned while Bulma stroked him from behind, he stood powerless against her nimble hands. He wrapped his wet tail around her leg as she pumped, and he reached around to grab her hips as she continued.

“Turn around.” She whispered, and he obeyed. _He had learned that she was one to get her way, one way or another._ He turned, grabbing her hands and raising them up to pin her to the shower wall as he stepped into her, pressing his stiff cock into her mound as she moaned into his kiss. He forcibly nipped her bottom lip before pulling away, growling into her ear as he softly bucked into her, driving her mad for more. _He wanted to watch her squirm, beg for him..._

Bulma loved his dominance, despite all that she did to try and proclaim her own. It was a game they played, and one that he always ended up winning- _but only because she let him... and he knew it._ _She got her way, one way or another…_

Vegeta dropped his arms, holding her chin with one hand and grabbing his cock with the other, teasing her clit with it as he withheld his full kiss from her. She reached forward, grabbing the nape of his hair and forcing him to her mouth for a crushing kiss, their teeth clicking before she rolled her tongue over his desperately.

"I need you in me." She whispered before biting his lower lip, sucking on it before he gave a sideways grin.

"As you wish, _tai_ _keita_." He growled, guiding himself into her slowly, deliberately, grabbing her ass and lifting her up over the stream of water. _Damn she was so tight, absolutely perfect..._

She gasped as he pushed deeply into her, her head swimming with pleasure as she tightening her legs around his waist as he thrusted. 

-

_Vegeta watched pitifully, helplessly, as Frieza picked Bulma up, grabbing her neck with his tail. They were now on his ship, but the smell of ashes from his burning city still hung in the air. He looked back to his left where Zarbon now held him with his signature shit-eating smirk, and to his right it was his father, beaten, bruised and looking like he had walked out of the grave._

_"Father? Stop this, what in the all the hells?" Vegeta asked furiously, still trying to jerk away from his captors. He looked back over to Bulma as Frieza cackled._

_"Father, help me!" Vegeta growled, looking back up to the former king, who only gave him a dry smile._

_"Vegeta, for the good of our people, this must happen. We can't allow her to live." The former king proclaimed, digging his long, ragged nails into Vegeta's arm._

_"No father, gods damn it you don't understand."  Vegeta protested, gritting his teeth and trying to ascend without success._

_"What dont I understand Vegeta? I enjoyed fucking alien whores as well, but I never wanted to marry one, much less have a half-breed bastard with one..."_

_"You fucking dick." Vegeta hissed as he was subdued to the floor in a bowing position in front of Frieza. He looked up at his decaying father with tears welling up in the corners of his eyes._

_"You have no idea. You never fucking loved anyone. Not me, not mother...Tarble, or Cella..."_

_"I must protect my realm, my people, my legacy. Our bloodline must not be tainted."_

_Vegeta looked away from his father furiously, back to Bulma, still hanging limply from Frieza's tail. She opened her eyes weakly and tried to speak, but Frieza tightened his grip on her neck with a smirk._

_"NO! GODS!" Vegeta roared as the tyrant choked the life out of his woman._

_"You heard your father!" The tyrant exclaimed, snapping the woman's neck effortlessly and throwing her down like a rag doll to the floor of the spaceship._

_"long live the king!"_

-

Vegeta indulged himself with the view of Bulma's wet breasts, bouncing with each thrust as she panted his name louder with every buck. The view, and the feeling of intense pleasure drove him hazy, _animalistic_. He gritted his teeth and pounded harder, his eyelids heavy as he became entirely entranced by her.

Bulma was swept up in the feeling as well, moaning as Vegeta continuously hit her in the right spot, over and over and _over._ It felt to her as if they were made for one another...he fit her so well.

"Oh Vegeta, oh...goddamnit  _I love you_!" She exclaimed as she was brought over the edge, shivering in his arms from the ecstasy that pulsed through her body as she climaxed.

He looked up at her, panting as she tightened around his cock, causing him to speed up his pace, yearning for his own release. He soon followed her over the edge as he came into her with a gasp, grabbing her ass and groaning as the intense pleasure pulsed through his body and spilled into her. She grabbed his hair and kissed the side of his mouth gently as he sighed, swallowing hard and panting harder.

 She put her forehead to his for a few moments before he looked up at her with dark eyes. He loosened his tail, lifting her up off of him and sat her down in the running water. She leaned up against the mosaic stone and sighed with a satisfied smile, pushing the wet hair out of her face which suddenly reminded him of the _nightmare_. 

He looked away from her and grabbed his soap without a word, trying to cast away the image of her broken body laying on the snow.

"Get out and let me finish my shower, woman." He huffed, cocking a eyebrow at her as she crossed her arms, insulted. 

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Fine! Fine, just fuck me and tell me to get out. I see how it is." She complained, making her way out when he grabbed her wrist, making a face at her as she looked back at him in surprise.

"Never say that."

"W-what? I was just being dramatic." She gave him a weak smile, holding his wrist as he held hers. He let go of her with a grimace and she smiled to herself when she turned to exit.

"I love you."

"hmpf."

-

_Vegeta stared in horror at Bulma's lifeless body laying on the floor... no, on the snow. His own body went limp, the arms holding him disappeared and snow swirled around him as he stared down at the icy ground. He looked at his armor, his princes armor, busted and covered in gore. He was back to the night he became king, and instead of his father lying broken on the ground it was his lover. His Bulma._

_Frieza was now transformed, pacing around Vegeta with a wicked grin, his arms crossed and his head held high._

_"So now what, Vegeta? Where do we stand now?"_

_"I killed you already, you fucking piece of shit."_

_"Oh, did you?" Frieza asked, his crimson eyes gleaming with malice._

_"Yes, I killed you. You fucker I KILLED YOU!" Vegeta roared, regaining his strength and rising up off his knees._

_"You can never kill me. Never. Even if you lived a thousand years I would never die in your mind." Frieza sighed, kicking the lifeless body of Bulma out of the way. Vegeta gritted his teeth in fury, blood dripping from his chin to his armor._

_"And if thats so I'll kill you every single gods damned night for a thousand years." Vegeta retorted, now pacing around Frieza as they squared each other up._

_"Oh my, you don't think I would really give you that satisfaction now would I, Vegeta? Please." Frieza taunted, taking a battle stance as Vegeta followed suit. The two stared each other down in the silence of the snow, waiting with bated breath for the other to make a move._

_Frieza acted first, flipping in front of Vegeta and using his tail to trip him up. Vegeta backed up and dodged a punch, crouching down and gathering his ki from his core and directing it into his contorted hands._

_"GALICK HO!" He roared, sending a blast of purple energy into the face of the Arcosian tyrant. He panted, bouncing back as Frieza continued forward without any damage._

_"I told you, you stupid monkey! You will never, ever conquer me." Frieza laughed as Vegeta stared wide eyed and powerless while the Arcosian grabbed him by the neck. Frieza gave a wild grin as he placed his other hand over Vegeta's face and blasted red ki into the Saiyans skull_...

-

Vegeta found Bulma laying on the couch, reading the book he had nearly finished and wearing his shirt with the neck untied, exposing a good portion of her braless bust. 

He snapped his fingers and she looked up, perturbed at the interruption. 

"Humor me." He said sharply, nodding for her to follow and she obeyed, putting the book down suspiciously.

He stood at his desk, glaring down distractedly at a stack of papers as she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest and looking down at the official documents perplexedly.

"Humor you how, exactly?" She asked as he pulled away from her, taking a seat at his desk and motioning for her to come up behind him. She raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on the back of his chair. _What is he getting at..._

"I trained hard this morning, my muscles are tight." He murmured, making a kneading motion on the back of his neck.

He would never admit it but he needed her comfort at that moment, _her touch_... he just couldn't get rid of images from that damned nightmare, replaying over and over in his head. _He needed to tell her...get it off his shoulders._

Bulma smiled, surprised he would ask for such a thing, but she was more than happy to assist. He immediately loosened up under her touch, closing his eyes and sighing as she pressed her thumbs into his flesh. 

"I had a nightmare last night..." he trailed, crossing his arms, deciding on whether he wanted to actually go through and talk about it... _too late now, I guess. Shit._

"A nightmare?" She asked surprised, running her fingers over his scalp. She was curious as to why he was opening up to her about this, since he never discussed his past nightmares with her.

" _Yes_ , a fucking nightmare... you, _you_ _died_." He murmured, evading the fact that they were also married, she had a tail and was pregnant with his child.

"How did I die?" She asked as he cringed, not wanting to speak the name of his former captor out loud.

"Frieza." He replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose and groaning as she pressed into a particularly sore knot. 

"Why did he kill me?" 

"Because you're... my woman."

"Ah, so what did you do?"

"Nothing, I couldn't do anything." He mumbled, quickly wishing he hadn't brought the damn subject up at all. _Stupid_...

He felt so weak and vulnerable when he opened up, he had always been taught to bottle up his emotions to avoid coming off as a weakling. But there was a certain solace in disclosure, solace he currently needed to quell his anxiety over this particular nightmare.

"Did he kill you too?" She asked, running her hands back to his bare shoulders.

"Yes." Vegeta swallowed, thinking back to the part where he woke up... the beam of energy blasting through his skull... exactly how he had killed the _real_ Frieza. 

"I'm sorry you haven't been sleeping well...and you've had so many nightmares." Bulma trailed, unsure of what to say to him but wishing to comfort him in any way possible.

She could tell this was really bothering him, and she knew she had to tread lightly as to not embarrass him. She would never get anything out of him if she so much as looked at him the wrong way when he was opening up. 

"The first part wasn't so bad, we were up north, back in the grass," he sighed as she scratched his scalp, "but then shit started getting weird from there."

"What was weird?"

"Well... it's, ah. You were, you had a _tail_."

"Really?" She asked, surprised yet again. _She liked the sound of that..._

"Yes, and you were... with child." He stammered, his cheeks burning as he disclosed that bit of information. 

"Ah, wow." She replied, staring down at him in surprise. _That's a new one..._ He didn't turn back to meet her gaze.

"Frieza came and destroyed the capital, and then he took you. Some other shit happened but... he killed you and I was powerless. I felt like a piece of _useless_ shit." Vegeta murmured, knowing he wouldn't dare mention the part where his mother and father were both more than happy to watch Frieza snap her skinny neck.

"I'm... I'm sorry Vegeta." She stammered, continuing to rub his shoulders and processing the information when he let out a derisive " _tch_ ".

 _"_ it'snot a big deal _._ Just another stupid dream." He shrugged, knowing that she could see right through his bullshit...

"Yeah, of course." She smiled, knowing that he was trying to shrug it off casually... and doing a _terrible_ job.


	16. The Peak of Daestai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sacred Saiyan new year, Daestai, has arrived on planet Vegeta. Vegeta has a chat with Tarble, then makes a speech to the masses. Bulma makes a big accomplishment, then visits the blood-pits with Yama to see the ritual fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A big thanks to Dragondancer28, Ajiira01 and Jbae654 of tumblr for looking over and helping me edit this chapter! 
> 
> *Also this chapter started getting really huge so it was cut in half...which hopefully means I'll have the next one out before we move a the end of this month :>
> 
> Edited 12/18/17

Vegeta stood in his royal armor and family jewels, glowering as he waited at the door to his chambers. Today was the peak of the _Daestai_ holiday, and his whole _gods damned_ city was going to be in a state of _absolute fucking chaos_. The streets would be packed, vendors selling gods knew what on every corner, alcohol flowing freely, the blood pit would be absolutely r _aking_ in money as warriors fought brutally within the walls of the arena. A score of babies would be born in about ten months, as was a typical side effect of the _Daestai_ celebration. _The most wonderful time of the year_. It was a great time for the economy, but he knew he had to be seen soon, he had to give his speech to the adoring crowd…a task he absolutely abhorred.

He had been raised by Frieza, an alien tyrant that despised his people, denying him his heritage as well as his culture for ten years; and so Vegeta was a product of that sour upbringing. During his captivity under Frieza, Vegeta had missed the formative years of public speaking, as well as a multitude of formal and life lessons on how to be a proper monarch. He knew how to kill, how to be cruel, and maim and fight…but being a noble? That was another story…

For the first few months of being the ruler of the planet he had had to endure crash courses on how to behave as king. He had hated every second of being corrected, being reprimanded and prodded by his instructors; instructors who were used to training much younger and affable noble students. He had reluctantly learned how to behave and communicate with nobility, the courting customs, respectful ceremonial wine pouring…and giving speeches to throngs of people. And the speeches were his most hated of all duties, he felt as if they were such _bullshit._

He hated so much of what he was expected to do, how he was expected to act and how he had to be at certain places at certain times… and it sometimes made him resent his role as king. But Vegeta was a born leader-despite his abuse and belittling as a child. He knew that he was of powerful blood, superior Saiyan blood, and ultimately he was born to be the ruler of the Saiyan people. His pride would never allow him to be anything else.

He sighed as he turned the handle, stepping over the threshold into the world outside of his chambers, and whatever may come with it.

-

Vegeta made his way imposingly down the royal hall with his crimson cape flowing behind and his guards flanking him on each side. He nearly passed Tarble’s room before he stopped, turning back and staring at his younger brother’s door with a tentative glance; he rarely spoke to his brother, _but_ …

“Tarble are you in there?” Vegeta growled after pounding on the door. He listened for a response for a short, hesitant moment, ready to turn and leave when his brother opened the door with a genial smile. Vegeta stared down at his shorter sibling, much smaller of frame and possessing a pleasant demeanor so unlike his own. The prince was wearing a navy tunic, his necklace a large blue diamond set in a rose gold, his preferred metal.

“Brother, what brings you to my chambers on this day of celebration?” The prince asked, standing out of the way and making room for his older brother to enter the chamber. Vegeta motioned for his guards to stay back and Tarble closed the door silently behind the king.

“Are you going to the blood pit this afternoon?” Vegeta asked, pacing around Tarble’s humble chambers before taking a seat in the small conversation area. _Why_ he had chosen this smaller chamber, Vegeta would never know. The prince had a choice of several royal suites, but took the smallest one on the outer royal hall.

“Yes, of course brother. It is _Daestai_ and I am expected there, as are you,” Tarble took a seat opposite of his brother and leaned his head on his hand, “Although I would wager that you are much more excited about the forthcoming carnage than I am. But that’s not what you came here to speak about.”

“Oh Tarble, observant as ever.” Vegeta rolled his eyes, glancing over to Tarble’s personal servant and barking for wine.

“The 459 please, Karotta.” Tarble said gently to the older woman as she went to fetch the dry red.

“Why are you the way you are, Tarble.”

“I’m too much like our father’s mother, so I’ve been told.” Tarble smiled as Karotta entered the room with a dark red wine, pouring it for the king first, and then the prince. After she was finished, Vegeta shooed her out of the room, taking a long swig of the dry, crisp wine.

“Yes, I’ve heard she was a soft-hearted weakling, just like you. But brother,” Vegeta turned, making sure the servant was well out of earshot, “I came here to talk to you about _our_ _dear mother_.”

“Being kind-hearted is not always a negative trait, brother. They say we are evolving to be more civilized creatures, you know. And oh _,_ our mother? You are too much like _our_ _dear mother_.” Tarble grinned over his wine glass as Vegeta made a face.

“You speak to her often.”

“Yes, of course, I _am_ the curator of royal finances, and she _does_ enjoy spending money.”

“Cut the shit Tarble, you two speak regularly, eat together, go to the markets together. I know she confides in you all her personal woes.” Vegeta growled, and Tarble raised an eyebrow with a dramatic sigh.

“So ask what you came to ask brother.”

“I haven’t spoke to her in over two weeks, since…I brought Bulma to the palace.” Vegeta swallowed a big gulp of wine, flicking the tip of his tail. He hadn’t really spoken to anyone about Bulma, and this was the first time her name escaped his lips in front of family.

“Oh, _Bulma_. Yes, she has spoken _much_ of the alien woman.” Tarble grinned wickedly, sipping his wine and swaying his tail leisurely. Vegeta made an unamused face and motioned for Tarble to continue.

“She proposed having her killed a while back, but she thought that may be going _too_ far, something you would possibly have her put to death for- should you have found out that she put the hit out on the woman.”

“Fuck right I would!” Vegeta barked, balling his left hand into a tight fist and slapping his tail against the chair in rage. _How dare she!…_

“Calm down brother, she put that idea down long ago. Don’t tell me it really surprised you though?”

Vegeta huffed, knowing Tarble was right. He really hadn’t put it past that conniving woman to think up something so heinous… but he knew she was clever enough to realize that he wouldn’t hesitate to watch her burn for that inexcusable deed.

“Anyhow, she was _not_ pleased at all that you brought the alien woman to the palace, " _for all the world to see"_ , as she put it. She’s been very, _very_ angry in fact. And I know that you can understand why. To be honest though, I couldn’t care less, you found a suitable mate for yourself, you are our savior, it shouldn’t matter who you choose. But alas, who am I? She picked out my wife when I was seventeen.” Tarble rolled his eyes and took another short sip.

 “What is she planning to do about Bulma now?” Vegeta finished off his own wine and glared at Tarble, who met his dark eyes and sighed.

“It’s ridiculous actually, the things she’s came up with. Now she’s been ranting about finding wishing orbs, have you ever heard of them?”

“What in the hells are wishing orbs?” Vegeta made a face as Tarble grinned.

“Apparently magical spheres that grant any wish that one may have. One of her advisors had heard about it from an alien diplomat, who heard it from an alien noble…and you get the point. It’s all bullshit.” Tarble shrugged. Vegeta’s stomach sank slightly as he remembered a story Bulma had told him… _about dragon balls that could grant any wish…_

“What was she planning to do with this wish.?”

“Wish for you to lose your muse with the alien, for her to die a natural death... or on my suggestion, for your sake _I might add_ , wish that she was a Saiyan. But you don’t believe in such outlandish objects, do you?”

 “No, no of course not.” Vegeta swallowed, looking down at his empty wine glass. Surely these magical objects were a fairytail, surely Bulma must have just been running around her planet on childish whims…and her planet…fuck, what if those balls were still there? _What if they were real…_

“You’re lying.” Tarble noted, seeing Vegeta scowl, turning thoughts over and over in his head. Vegeta raised his eyes to glare at Tarble.

“Fuck you and your observant ways brother,” Vegeta murmered sarcastically, “Bulma mentioned wishing orbs in the past, she called them _dragon balls_ , or something stupid like that.”

“They have many names apparently,” Tarble replied, raising an eyebrow and sitting back in his chair, “So, do you actually think they _are_ real?”

“Maybe. I’ll talk to Bulma about it later.”

“Later? You didn’t…. invite her to any events today, did you? That wouldn’t be wise, for her sake especially.”

“No, no I didn’t. But after all this shit today I’m bringing her back to stay the night. It is _Daestai_.”

“Mother won’t be happy about that.”

“I don’t give a shit what mother thinks, I’m sure you’ll just run your mouth though….”

“You _do_ give a shit, but I’m not going to tell her. I know…what it’s like to love a mate, brother.”

Vegeta sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and leaning his head back against the chair. Tarble knew what a forbidden relationship was…It had been rumored that the prince fancied the same sex, a big taboo in Saiyan culture-he had often been seen with a male noble of an age with him. Vegeta felt a rare pang of pity for his brother, who lived a double life because of tradition and culture. The prince and his wife didn’t even reside in the same chambers. There was no love between them.

“I have to go…give this gods damned speech.”

“I don’t envy you, my king. I’m glad you were born first.” Tarble smiled sadly, sitting his nearly empty glass on the table and standing to bid farewell to his brother. Vegeta sighed and stood in front of Tarble, each grabbing one another’s forearm in a Saiyan farewell.

-

Bulma pushed her rapidly growing hair out of her face with a sigh. She had purchased a hair growth device upon the advice of a co-worker, a pale green skinned alien with the most luscious, thick green hair she had ever seen… _oh, how_ _she wanted that hair_.  While she wasn’t at all disappointed with the performance of the product, she was irritated at the lengthening locks that were continuously falling in her face as she worked.

She pushed her hair out of her face once again as she soldered the tiniest components together, her handheld softly playing a classical piece of Othenian music that reminded her a lot of Mozart’s symphonies. She was the only one in the lab since it was the peak of _Daestai_ … _Cleansing_ in the universal language, and she was glad for the lack of company. She hadn’t had to go into work due to the holiday, and spending the entire day working on her capsule project was a rare treat.

She thought about Vegeta, knowing he wasn’t entirely looking forward to this day and wouldn’t tell her why. She did know he would be busy dealing with royal obligations and watching people kill one another for sport. _How appalling…guh, Saiyans._

Bulma bent over the sterile white table with her magnifying goggles set to max, tweaking the tiny wires and soldering loose parts together before giving this newest capsule a try. She had been working on this particular prototype for over a month, and today was the day she would see if this one succeeded where the others had failed.

After twenty more minutes of inspecting, fixing minor flaws and cursing to herself, she felt the small cylinder was ready. She slid the thin metal case over the inner workings and screwed the button on the top, sealing the prototype capsule with a sigh. _Here goes nothing…_

-

Bulma took the capsule and a small fire extinguisher to an open testing room, the extinguisher was in case this one decided to create a white-hot fire like the last one. That had been a _total_ disaster, the pieces all melted before she could even make the changes necessary to correct the problem. She had tracked everything on this version, and could only hope she had gotten it all right…

Bulma dragged a chair on the opposite side of the room and placed it in the middle of the open area, she took a deep breath before stepping several large steps back from it. She swallowed nervously, her pulse rate accelerating as she pressed the button, feeling an energetic _click_ before throwing it at the chair with bated breath. Mere seconds felt like an eternity as a burst of brilliant yellow light enveloped the chair. She closed her eyes, waiting for the smell of smoke to envelope her senses. But… _But it didn’t…_

“Oh my god.” Bulma murmured, opening her eyes and throwing her hand to her mouth in an excited shock. The chair was gone, and the only thing that remained was a small, metal cylinder laying in its place. She trembled with adrenaline as she paced over to it, picking it up with shaking hands and staring at its shiny surface with tears welling up in her eyes. Now to see if it will come back…

Bulma pressed the button again, feeling the familiar _click_ before tossing the capsule, squinting at the brilliant yellow light before the chair appeared once more, sitting upright as if it had never been moved. Bulma stared wide eyed in disbelief, then began to laugh, tears of joy now flowing freely down her face as she sat in the floor. She had successfully duplicated her father’s most important and impossibly complex invention, and had now set herself up for a career as a scientist with a product that was going to make her a very wealthy, well respected woman. _And damn, her king, how she wished he was there to see it happen…_

-

Vegeta made an unamused face at his two lead generals, Bardock and Nappa, as he entered the dais, still out of eyesight of the lively crowd far below.

“I hate this shit.” He growled at the older, scar faced Saiyan who was dressed in fine armor and grinning lopsidedly at Vegeta. Nappa gave a dry laugh and clapped Vegeta on his back, and the king shot the hulking Saiyan a dark look.

“I told you to stop doing that Nappa.” Vegeta hissed, narrowing his eyes dangerously at the large, bald man.

“Ah, sorry my king, just habit. Anyhow, go give them a good speech.”

“Bardock, go…address them.” Vegeta mumbled, his arms crossed as the general nodded and walked out onto the dais to present his king.

-

Vegeta was a man of few words most of the time. He didn’t talk much unless he was drunk, and chatting was such an exhausting effort that he liked to keep it to a bare minimum. Although he dreaded giving speeches (and never once thought about what he would say beforehand), he most always gave a riveting speech. And on the peak of _Daestai_ , in the fourth year in the age of Onin, he gave a _damn_ good one.

The crowd had roared when he spoke of how freedom from Frieza had brought prosperity to the Saiyan race, how they would grow and expand and become rich from trade. His blood had been high as he thundered about war with the Cold dynasty, how the Saiyans would bathe in the blood of the enemy, how they would rip throats out with their teeth, how they would burn their foes alive. He had finished with a blessing for the blood pits to open, the ritual of blood cleansing, willing sacrifices for the new year before departing. _Same shit, different year..._ at least it was over for now.

He entered the garden terrace behind the dais as the crowd still cheered and roared and thundered outside… all _his_ people, all proud Saiyans ready to fight and die for him. He sighed as he sat at a bench, nodding at Nappa and Bardock as they praised him and abruptly left. He sat watching the fish swim around the pond mindlessly, the roar from the crowd turning into a steady murmur as they dissipated from the area. The people went on celebrate other aspects of the holiday, be it fucking, fighting or feasting. _Hells_ , all three if it was a _really_ _good_ day… he grinned to himself as he ran his hands over his face _. I’m hoping mine ends up a really good day..._

He sat for several moments, watching the idiot fish circle the pond and clearing his mind, thinking of Bulma and how she was going to wear nothing but jewels for him tonight as he bent her over his bed _, maybe even his throne_ … when an annoying chime brought him back to his senses. He knitted his brows together and fumbled in his pocket for his handheld, pulling the screen up and blinking at the message.

_I did it! Wish you were here to see it, the capsule WORKS._

Vegeta grinned despite himself, putting the handheld back down into his pocket. He would talk with her later, damn, that genius woman… _his_ Bulma.

He stood with a renewed energy, snapping his fingers for Raditz and Asgus to follow him, his blood pumping in anticipation for the blood pits…He would fight and possibly kill a man today, maybe two if he felt froggy. The he would _feast_ afterword, and later he would _fuck_ his gorgeous woman until she screamed his name for the whole gods damned palace to hear. After the speech, it was all uphill on this sacred peak of _Daestai_.

-

Bulma had planned on working the entire day, never expecting to come to the completion of her project so soon; but after its success she was too giddy to spend the day in the lab or at home. She was in high spirits when Yama called and said she had an extra ticket to the blood pits…Bulma wasn’t thrilled about the aspect of seeing Saiyans beat and possibly kill each other for their sacred blood cleansing, but she assumed it was a part of the culture she was living in, and it was a reality here. Also, she would see her king _actually being_ _the king_ …and not just her lover. That was a highlight that she was _very_ intrigued with.

Bulma returned to her flat, her new, much more luxurious home that Vegeta had insisted upon, and paid for to her disdain. She had firmly said no when he made the offer, and he had told her that no woman of his would live in a “ _shit hole hovel for the lowest grade warriors and street cleaners.”_   She remembered rolling her eyes, but throwing away her pride when she actually saw the place- a top floor apartment with the highest-grade appliances, surfaces and upholstery. The flat was dripping in luxury, something she ultimately had a weakness for, and she had fell in love with it. Besides, she was tired of roughing it after all these years in space. _She deserved it._

-

Bulma had just changed into one of the twenty outfits she had pulled out of her wardrobe when Yama knocked on the door. Bulma let the Saiyan in and continued to prepare for the event as Yama listened distractedly to her go on about the capsule project.

“But its finally finished! I’m just shocked I duplicated it with the small amount of time I had to work on it. I tested the capsule on various items and it worked without hesitation today, and the next trial will be on very large objects.” Bulma beamed to the tall Saiyan woman who now stood impatiently at the bathroom door.

“I’m really glad for you…I _really_ am. But the fighting has already started by now Bulma! Its been _forty five_ minutes. You look fine, let’s _go_.” Yama pleaded, crossing her arms and swaying her tail agitatedly.

“Alright, here….” Bulma trailed as she put on her mauve lipstick, “Okay, I’m finished.”

Yama gave a dramatic sigh of relief as she grabbed her purse off the couch, throwing Bulmas bag at her as soon as she exited the bathroom. Bulma made a face at Yama as she shoved her lipstick and a capsule into her purse, following the Saiyan out of the door and locking it behind her.

The blood pits, or the colosseum, as Bulma called it, was only a short walk from her new apartment complex. The two women walked briskly, Bulma having a hard time keeping up with the much taller and physically adept Saiyan as they made their way in the empty streets.

“Thankfully I dropped money on reserved seats, otherwise we wouldn’t see shit!” Yama commented as they rounded a corner and the massive colosseum came into view.

“So how did I get your extra ticket? You broke it off with Matus? But _seriously_ though, it’s just a bunch of people beating the hell out of each other over and over, you won’t miss that much…”

“Yes I dumped his sorry ass, I wasn’t about to let him have this ticket! But Bulma… It’s _Daestai_! It’s the most important brawl of the year, _Come on_.” Yama made a face at the shorter woman, who gave the Saiyan an unamused scowl.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“To be honest I can’t believe you’ve never been to the blood pits on _Daestai_ , it’s just… _such an important time_.”

“I know it is, I just…I’m squeamish I guess.” Bulma gave a short laugh as Yama sighed.

“You’re an alien, sometimes I forget. Customs are different, I guess we _are_ considered a vicious race.”

“It’s just different to me, I mean humans could be pretty brutal too. At one point in history they had fights in arenas and colosseums…people killing animals, animals killing people, people killing people…it was an everyday occurrence. And wars, hell there were always wars among humans, even in my time.”

“So they stopped the arena fights?”

“It just…fell out of…style I guess.” Bulma lied, knowing good and well a vast majority of humans began to disdain the brutality instead of praising it, which ultimately led to its timely demise on Earth.

“That’s so strange. It’s still a very sacred time for us. Every major city has its blood pits, and the very small communities hold their own battles in much smaller arenas. Sacrifice of the warrior is the only way to bring prosperity in the new year.”

“Of course.” Bulma said with a fake smile, still not entirely thrilled about the event and _damned_ _sure_ that a sacrifice wasn’t the key to make for a prosperous year. Bulma stared up at the imposing arena as they neared it, as tall as the palace and made of hulking grey stones with carved Saiyan writing and artistic patterns decorating the front.

The two women made their way to the front gate and handed their tickets to a squat, blue skinned alien man who sat disinterestedly behind a window. He raised his three eyes at Bulma and gave her a strange look before punching holes in the corners of the tickets, taking his time to Yama’s disdain.

“Not many aliens come through here today. Should have brought something to keep the blood off’a you though, heard it’s a real bloodbath today. You two enjoy the fights.” He mumbled, handing the punched tickets back. Bulma glanced horrified from the alien to Yama, and the Saiyan shook her head.

“We’re not _that_ close.” She said, grabbing Bulma by the arm and dragging her into the thundering, energetic arena.

-

When they had made it to their seats they were surprised to find two men occupying the bench. The theives glanced at the women with looks of derision as Yama held out her tickets.

“Hey, these are our seat numbers.” She said authoritatively, her tail instinctively wrapping around her waist. She could tell these assholes were going to give them trouble.

“Should have been here a long time ago ladies _, sorry_.” The larger once mocked, giving a sharp toothed grin. His squatty companion laughed and crossed his arms as Yama bared her teeth.

“I paid good money for these seats now you two get the fuck _out_!” She growled, balling up her fist and throwing the tickets back at Bulma, who scrambled to keep them from falling. She had never seen Yama this angry, or her true Saiyan nature showing through her usually calm demeanor. She stared wide eyed as the larger Saiyan stood to confront Yama, disregarding the multitude of people now staring at _them_ instead of the battle below.

“And what about you? Doesn’t look like you could break a twig _alien_.” The shorter Saiyan grinned at Bulma, while Yama and the bulkier Saiyan confronted one another with bared teeth. Bulma glared down at the squatty Saiyan and knitted her eyebrows together. She was not going to let these assholes ruin her good mood…this was _her_ damn day.

“Hey, this is all bullshit! Don’t you ruin my good day you…you _fucking trash_!” Bulma exclaimed, channeling her inner Vegeta and holding the tickets up. She looked up and down the stands for someone, _anyone_ who managed this fiasco of an event. She didn’t want Yama to get into a fist fight with the seat stealing asshole, and she sure as hell didn’t want to get into a fight of her own. She would be smashed in an instant… _this is absolutely ridiculous…_

“Hey you two shits, this is the king’s woman. You better fucking pack it up and head out.”

Bulma glared at the man who spoke, sitting directly behind the two seats that were rightfully hers and Yama’s. He was a middle-aged man, wearing Saiyan armor, his arms crossed across the breast plate and a grim scowl on his face.

“Who, this one? Why ain’t she with the king then _old man_? She ain’t no noble by the looks of her.” The taller of the thieves poked Yama’s shoulder hard, knocking her back a step before she smacked his hand away with a snarl.

“No, _not_ that _one_. The alien. And I can guarantee if you lay a hand on her you and your entire family will die.”

“Why the fuck would the king be fucking an alien…”

“Leccut, stop.” The squatty Saiyan interrupted, standing up and hurrying over to his friend with a face full of newfound worry.

“What in the hells is wrong with you Brussa…”

“That old man ain’t full of shit…I also heard the king has an alien woman with blue hair, this old fool might be right. We need to go.” Brussa murmured to Leccut, glancing over nervously at Bulma, who was crossing her arms and scowling as she overheard the exchange.

Leccut made a face at his friend, then at Bulma, and finally at the old man. He threw his hands up in exasperation and walked up the stairs without another word. The short man followed, looking back nervously as Bulma sighed.

“Hey, thanks for that. That was getting out of hand fast.” Bulma said to the older man, and he shrugged without another word. Bulma looked over to Yama, who still had her tail wrapped and bristled around her waist.

“That escalated quickly.”

“Yeah… _yeah_...” Yama replied, loosening her shoulders and letting her tail drop. She took the ticket from Bulma and sat in her newly won seat, tapping her fingers anxiously on the stone bench and sighing.

“I was kind of ready for a good fight though, I could have took him, you think?” She smiled at Bulma who laughed.

 “You were pretty scary Yama, I won’t lie.” Bulma replied, biting her lip as she glanced around the arena for the king.  She was barely able to see the royal podium on the opposite side of the colosseum, and she exhaled a long sigh . _Maybe she wouldn’t get to see him after all…_


	17. Defector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The king fights the victor of the Daestai battles, but the fight turns into a much bloodier ordeal than anyone had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter is relatively violent, so you may not want to read if that's not your cup of tea
> 
> *Thanks to Dragondancer28 and Jbae654 of Tumblr for reading over this before I posted! 
> 
> Edited 12/18/17

Vegeta sat back in his podium throne, his head propped on his hand as he watched the closest fight below. He scrutinized every move the men made as they punched, kicked, and threw ki blasts at one another. He already knew who was going to win this match from the way they moved, and turned to his sister, Cella.

“I’ll bet you my Catalpan diamond the one in the black will win.” He grinned toothily at his sister who sat to his left, beside of Tarble and his estranged wife.

“I’ll not bet you shit brother, because I know you’re right.” She smirked, flicking her tail spiritedly. The girl had just turned seventeen, but she was an excellent fighter; strong willed and aggressive, looking like a clone of Celera but with the bloodlust of their father. The princess was to be married to Kakarot in the coming months, to which Vegeta was bitterly opposed to.

Bardock had been given a noble title and house after his loyalty and personal sacrifice in the rebellion… which in turn made Kakarot a _noble_ …which ultimately made him a candidate for a royal pairing. Celera picked him because of his ascended strength and battle prowess…but _damn_ …it was _still_ Kakarot. Too soft of heart, and of head.

However, the girl seemed to take a _liking_ to him _. Gods only knew why_. Probably because he was the only other ascended Saiyan. _Tch._

“We’ll bet on the next fighters without seeing them fight first.” Cella stated and Vegeta nodded with a smirk.

“That’s fine, but my diamond is not up for that bet.”

“Then my Azlanian opal won’t be _either_.”

“ _Oh_ , oh that’s a tempting bet, sister.” Vegeta sighed, watching his chosen victor stomp the other man’s head into the dirt with a crunch.

“Then bet the diamond.”

Vegeta sat and thought about his large, fist sized warm brown diamond that he had gotten from the Catalpan queen, a priceless gem that was a symbol of unity between the two worlds. But _that_ opal…it was just as fine and just as priceless. She had gotten it from a lovesick Azlanian prince, Zarbon’s people…nothing but a dumb green boy trying to woo Cella fruitlessly.

“Alright sister. I’ll bet the damned diamond.”

“Good! I will have a gorgeous set of bridal jewelry made with that!” She smiled slyly and Vegeta rolled his eyes in disgust. _All this pomp for stupid Kakarot…_

“Don’t make me default on this bet, sister.”

“Oh no, I’ll keep my lips sealed then!”

“Do you think it’s wise to bet a symbol of unity, my son?” Celera interjected from behind the king. He knitted his eyebrows but didn’t turn. How long had she been there without him knowing it? Odd as it was that he couldn’t sense her…

“I think it would be wise not to question what _your_ king chooses to do.” He hissed, narrowing his eyes as she strolled up to the side of his throne, wearing a long, pale blue dress.

“Oh Rubra, let’s not fight on this sacred day. I’m just suggesting that it may not be a good decision to bet such important items off. Especially if they will be chipped down into jewelry for another person of lower status, no offense Cella.” Celera turned to her daughter who nodded expressionlessly.

“I made the bet Celera, I’m sticking to it. If the unity between us and the Catalpan people is broken up over a fucking rock then there was no accord to begin with.”

“The Catalpan army is grand, they are valuable allies and dangerous foes. But, do as you wish my son.” She breathed dramatically, taking a seat below the throne to Vegeta’s contempt. He really felt like kicking her in the back of the head after finding out that she wanted to have Bulma snuffed, but retained his composure. It just wouldn't do to have a king that kicked his mother in front of thousands of people.

They sat in silence as the next round of fighters came out, and Vegeta gave Cella a knowing glance.

“I’m going with the long haired one in grey armor.”

“Alright, brother. The bet stands as of now.”

“Deal.”

As the two men fought, Vegeta’s stomach sank. He soon realized he had picked the wrong fighter. Cella's champion took the fighter in grey by the hair, kicking him repeatedly in the stomach and then tripping him, smashing his face in the ground and rendering him unconscious. _Fuck._ In less than five minutes he had lost his most valuable jewel. _  
_

“Gods damn it Cella, you win.” He grumbled, flicking his tail as his sister laughed giddily, and the badly beaten man was carried off the dirt below.

“Oh it will make the most beautiful set of bridal jewelry!”

“I don’t give a shit.” Vegeta waved her off as she and Tarble talked happily, discussing what jeweler they would get to make the set from the oversized diamond.

Vegeta sat sullenly, his arms crossed as his mother turned to face him.

“ _See_ Vegeta. That was a stupid bet.”

“Shut up, mother.”

-

After several hours of carnage, the dark had set in and the final fight had finally arrived. Vegeta was becoming increasingly disinterested in simply watching the sparring, he had become desperate to _bare his teeth_. He wanted to feel the rush of breaking bones, to fire huge amounts of pent up ki into his opponent, to feel the lifeblood of a man running over his hands…

His heart rate elevated in anticipation as the final fight came to a close, the victor raising his arms to the roar of the crowd, covered in blood and bruises. He heaved heavy breaths as he came up to the throne, bowing before his king as servants in white robes brought him a elixir to regain his stamina before the battle with the monarch.

Vegeta stood as servants ran up to unhook his cape, carrying it away as he glared down at his opponent. His tail swayed as he watched the man, guzzling down the elixir before standing to face his king, renewed and ready to fight. He was a young man, probably of an age with Vegeta, of fair complexion and black hair the fell in his face. Vegeta raised a gloved hand and the crowd immediately silenced.

“As it stands, if you defeat your king you are ranked among his most valued soldiers, as well as given a title, a generous offering of gold and land befitting of a noble. If you lose I will end your life in this arena as a worthy sacrifice. I will not ascend, as to keep the integrity of the fight fair. You must state you name, if you accept these terms.”

“I do, my king. My name is Artich. But I request that you do ascend, as I want to spar with you in your full glory.”

Vegeta was somewhat surprised with the request, partially that it was made in the universal tongue but also because the man wanted to fight an _ascended_ Saiyan. His mouth tipped slightly to one side in a off-putting grin as two servants approached, unlatching his cape from his shoulder armor _. Was this man a complete moron, or was he stronger than he seemed?_

Vegeta was more than ready to find out.

-

The two men met in the middle of the dusty arena as the crowd roared, vibrating with a collective energy under thousands of lights. Drones with cameras circled the king and the two assumed their battle stance, tails wrapped and blood sky high. Vegeta grinned darkly at his opponent, and the man nodded without much expression, not leaving himself vulnerable whatsoever.

“This will be fun, what do you say?” Vegeta crooned, just before powering up with a blast of golden electricity. The crowd went into a frenzy as their king ascended, but Vegeta blocked them all out as the intense, raging power filled the whole of his body. He glared with blazing cyan eyes at his opponent.

“It is an honor, my king. The greatest honor.” Artich replied, powering up with the same intensity of the monarch, sparks cracking as his hair blazed pale gold and his eyes burned with intense, blue power. The crowds once again roared, shocked that another ascended Saiyan stood before them.

Vegeta grinned wickedly, his sharp canines bared as bolts of lightning snapped into the dirt all around his body. _Oh fuck yes, this is excellent, this changes everything._

“COME AT ME!” The king roared exultantly, crouching like a frenzied animal with a horrifying grin as Artich complied. Vegeta side stepped in a blur, grabbing his opponent by the back of his hair and slammed him to the ground in a cloud of dust and sparks.

Artich rolled, shooting a blast of ki at his king as the monarch made to tear into the Saiyan. Vegeta dodged the blast, then sent his own ball of violet ki at his opponent, grazing the Saiyans torso and sending blood trickling onto the dirt. Artich turned on the king who was advancing toward him, grabbing his arms by the wrists and kneeing the king in the stomach. Vegeta gasped, glaring wild eyed at the Saiyan as he took a step back, the common man unsure of his previous action toward the king.

“Do NOT hold back!” Vegeta growled as Artich crouched, grabbing Vegeta’s punch and throwing him to the side. Vegeta flipped around, punching the man in his face with a bone shattering crack. The Saiyan spat out teeth and blood, but before he regained his composure Vegeta had kicked his feet out from under him, sending him to his back. The king stood above his opponent ready to send a deadly blast into the chest of the man, his teeth bared maniacally.

-

Bulma stared wide eyed at the ferocity of her king, her _lover_ , as he bared down on the fighter below him. She had never seen such fierce savagery in anyone…sentient or not. She was somewhat disturbed, but also felt an uncomfortable pleasure… an intense pride that she had never felt before. Hell, it was _animalistic_ … but she couldn’t quell the excitement that watching this scene stirred in her.

She gasped along with the thousands of others as the opponent rolled out of the way of the fatal blast and sent his own flash of red ki at Vegeta, who blocked it from his vitals, but suffered a large, heavily bleeding wound in his right arm. Bulma stared wide eyed, her heart racing as the two bolted toward each other in a flash of punches and kicks.

-

“Up you bastard! Take to the air!” Vegeta barked before he took a crunching punch to his cheekbone.

“It’s against the guidelines!”

“I make the fucking rules here! UP!” Vegeta spat, taking to the air in a golden burst. Artich followed obediently, darting up towards the king with incomprehensible speed. Vegeta blocked his opponents punch, grabbing his fist and snapping the mans arm backwards, eliciting a scream that rang through the arena.

-

Bulma threw her hand to her mouth as the fighter screamed in agony, looking over at Yama in horror. Yama was standing, elated, screaming for the kill along with every other Saiyan in the arena. _This is wrong…this is so wrong…_

For as much as she had been through in her life, she had never actually seen a person killed…much less in an arena, as a ritual… or in her eyes as _entertainment_ for the masses. And it all felt wrong now…all of it felt so _utterly wrong_. But she couldn’t look away…

-

Artich kicked out as Vegeta grabbed him by the throat, hitting the monarch square in the stomach, but unable to kick him hard enough to cause the king to release his grip.

“This is a waste, your death, that is. You should be my general, you are much stronger than most of the weak shits I call my soldiers.” Vegeta growled as Artich gasped, clawing at Vegeta’s bare arms and leaving bloody lines across his skin. Vegeta cocked an eyebrow, sighing.

“How did you do it? How did you ascend?”

Artich croaked, spewing something incomprehensible as Vegeta held his grip steadily on the mans throat. He rolled his eyes, kicking Artich in the stomach and throwing him down several meters to the dirt, causing the arena to shake and the crowd to go wild with excitement.

Vegeta lowered himself slowly, landing just outside of the cloud of dust that plumed over the hole in ground. He watched in fascination as the man pulled himself out of the hole, bloody and beaten, barely standing to face his king.

“I…I trained.” He croaked, his broken arm laying limp at his side as blood trickled from his mouth.

“No shit, with who? WHO?” Vegeta growled, aggressively approaching the Saiyan who unexpectedly sent an powerful blast into Vegetas ribs, breaking the powerful protection and sending blood and shards of armor flying. Vegeta was knocked back, eyes wide with intense pain and surprise as his opponent advanced in a flash.

“The _king_.” Artich smiled darkly, hovering over Vegeta and kneeing him in the nose, causing blood to spray as he fell backward onto the ground. As Vegeta fell back, Artich forced the kings tail from his waist and tossed him over his shoulder forcibly, slamming him into the dirt.

The croud collectively gasped, as grabbing the tail in battle was a derisive and disrespectful gesture to any Saiyan…and to do this to the king was just blasphemy. Vegeta gasped as he landed on his ribs, already broken from the ki blast, his mind spinning as he tried to come to grips with what was happening.

Artich gave the king no time to recuperate, grabbing him by the hair and slamming his head into the ground repeatedly. Vegeta freed himself by sending ki at his opponent, backing up on his knees before being kicked by Artich’s heel in the middle of his spine, the force causing the king to crumple in front of his people.

-

Bulma now stood, staring in horror as the king of the Saiyans lay crouching, spitting blood in the dirt as his opponent kicked him in the head over and over, finally knocking the monarch over to his side.

The cheers from the crowd died down to a thrumming murmur as Vegeta rolled to his back, royal blood covering his person while a common Saiyan, one that no one quite knew, stood over him.

“What the hell is going on Yama?” Bulma looked up desperately to her friend, who shook her head nervously.

“I..I don’t know. Nothing like this has ever happened…” The Saiyan woman trailed nervously, giving Bulma a glance before staring back at the scene. Bulma swallowed hard, her initial repulsion at the killing of this man fading far away. No… _now_ she wished Vegeta had choked the life out of the bastard. Choked him and blasted his body to a crisp…

-

Vegeta panted heavily, he had underestimated his opponent and had left himself wide open to attack. This was a beginner’s fault… _shameful_. And the pain… _the gods damn pain. This motherfucker…who is he?_

‘King Cold sent you? Who the fuck are you?” Vegeta gasped, glaring up at his opponent with one good eye.

“Your executioner.”

“Oh _come_ on, how gods damned _unoriginal_.” Vegeta spat, blood dripping from his mouth as he lowered his head and grinned privately in the dirt. _It was the kings turn to feign defeat…_

“Oh, unoriginal? Death will never be original, you stupid bastard.” Artich coughed, his throat damaged from the death grip Vegeta had held on him earlier. He stood over the king, who had feebly pulled himself up to crouching, still panting heavily.

“I’m going to become a general for the true king, you pathetic piece of shit. Groveling to you, kissing your ass…that was the most difficult part of this ordeal.”

“Oh, _yeah_ , right.” Vegeta chuckled painfully, coughing as intense pain radiated throughout his entire body.

“Yeah, _right_ ,” Artich kicked Vegeta again, causing a fresh spray of blood to spew from the monarch’s mouth, “Now I’m going to kill you before your idiot worshippers try to stop me. I see them getting anxious. I’ll give your regards to the Colds. They will enjoy destroying your wretched, garbage heap of a planet- that is if I don't take it for myself.”

Artich contorted his hands for a fatal blast when Vegeta grinned up at him with a bloody visage, pushing himself up with a sudden blast of ki, kneeing the unsuspecting Artich in the stomach and punching the traitors chin back with a satisfying crack.

The king of all Saiyans then did what came natural to him in that moment of bloodlust, and took his enemies exposed throat in his teeth, sinking them in, ripping through his windpipe with an audible crunch and spray of blood. Vegeta bit down as hard as he could, ripping away at the flesh and cartilage and leaving a gaping, gushing hole as he pushed Artich’s flailing body back into the dirt. He spat the gore on the man who struggled slightly, gurgling pathetically as Vegeta stood over him with a bloody grin.

“You severely underestimated me, you pile of shit. Give my regards to the grave worms.”

Vegeta descended, his golden aura dropped and his normal coloring returned. He walked away with a limp as the arena roared for their king.

-

Bulma stood in shock, her heart thumping rapidly as the Saiyans around her cheered, bawled and threw concession items to and fro. The commotion was all drowned out to her, but she could hear her heart thumping clearly.   _He…almost died…but he…he ripped that guys throat out with his teeth_ ….She watched the world as if in slow motion as Yama turned to her with a great smile, grabbing Bulma’s shoulders with elation before the world turned dark, dark and quiet and _devoid._

-

When Bulma awoke, the crowd had mostly dissipated. She groggily opened her eyes, lifting herself uncomfortably off the stone bench and gaining composure without any grace.

“What…what the fuck happened?” She asked, holding her pounding head as Yama grabbed her shoulder.

“Oh Bulma! You passed out after the kill.”

“You mean after my…lover, _the king_ , ripped a guys throat out with his teeth? Does he even have a face anymore, there's no way he has a face after all that damage…” She sighed, making a dark face as Yama laughed.

“Saiyans are tough Bulma, and he is the strongest we’ve ever known. I’m sure his face will be just fine. Also, that guy was a threat. I’ve been hearing rumors already that he was a defector…”

“A defector? From the what?…The Saiyan race?”

“Yeah, I guess. I've only heard a little, they have been keeping it hush hush on the broadcasts.” Yama motioned to her handheld, and Bulma immediately remembered hers.

“Oh shit.” She murmured, grabbing blindly inside her bag which sat in a pile of garbage below the bench. She fumbled for her handheld and glared at the only message she had

_Come to me._

It was from Vegeta, and she typed in a quick response.

_Where are you?_

“I got this… fifteen minutes ago? How long have I been out?”

“You’ve been out for a while… maybe thirty minutes or so. I just let you ride it out here since I didn’t want to carry you.”

“ _Oh_. _Thanks_. But my god, _that_ long?” Bulma shook her head as her handheld chimed.

_The palace. A guard will bring you in. Come now._

“I need to get to the king.”

“Now?”

“Yes now!”

-

Vegeta’s body shook in pain, his mind was dizzy and his body burned from the treatment, despite the frigid water. A machine buzzed as it pumped a medical concoction into his veins, causing his body to heal rapidly but not without a great deal of pain as his torn muscles knitted together, his breaks and fractures calcified and mended and his skin closed up as the medicine did its work. A doctor monitored his stats as the king grumbled about the process taking too long.

The door to the bathroom stood open as Bardock leaned in the frame, gazing down at his tablet and briefing Vegeta with the news as soon as the confidential reports poured in.

“We have confirmation of the defector's arrival on the planet, my king. He disembarked on planet Vegeta three days ago, He was coming from the Istirit belt planet, 5-L89. It is said he departed a ship from P-905…”

“P-905? That shitty glass planet? I sacked that fucking rock for Frieza…” Vegeta trailed as he noticed Bulma gazing at him in shock, not from the fact he was talking about sacking planets but because of his ruined _face_.

“That was…ah, quick.” Vegeta murmured, wincing as incredible pain rippled through his body, making him feel like vomiting right there in the tub.

“Oh my god, Vegeta.” She murmured, not sure whether to go to his side or not. He looked like _shit_ to put it lightly, his face unrecognizable pulp, his bruised body shivering and his arm hooked up to a machine.

“Come.” He demanded quietly, relishing in her presence. He knew all of this would shock the shit out of her, but he needed her there whether he wanted to admit it or not. Bulma made her way to the king, kneeling at the side of the tub, filled with bloody, dark pink water.

“Oh god, Vegeta.” She whimpered, her eyes welling with tears as he sighed.

“Gods woman I’m not going to die. I’ll look like the picture of health _sometime_ tonight.” He grumbled, shooting a glance at the doctor as Bulma grabbed his hand gingerly, as if _she_ could hurt him.

Bardock and the doctor glared at each other and shrugged knowingly, both surprised that the kings alien lover had so boldly made her way in the room. Vegeta narrowed his one good eye at them

“You two get the fuck out of here, and whatever you do, do NOT let my mother in. Not even in my chambers. Gods, she’s probably hoping I’m dead anyway.” Vegeta growled weakly, leaning back on headrest of the tub. The medicine was making his head more and more foggy, and more and more likely for him to start saying stupid shit. _Damn._ The doctor and Bardock departed the bathroom without another word, closing the door behind themselves and leaving the couple alone.

“The, ah, fight was a bit more intense than what anyone had suspected. There was a fighter who was ascended….”

“I saw the whole thing Vegeta, I was there with Yama.” Bulma interrupted him as he raised his good eyebrow, despite both of his eyes being closed.

“I thought you were, ah, thought you had the...shit I can't think...the lab all day today... so you saw the end…”

“Yeah.”

The two sat in silence a moment, the only sound came from the buzzing of the machine, still pumping powerful medicine into the king.

“I can’t say I’m sorry forrit', that bastard _tried ta_ kill'me.” Vegeta slurred, his head spinning and his mouth becoming heavy and numb.

“I’m not blaming you for anything, he could have killed you. I mean…the throat thing was kind of a lot to process but…”

“Okay, get this straight, first I wouldn’t 'ave _actually_ died. I’m not close ta dying, is'sat clear?”

Bulma nodded with one eyebrow raised.

“This damned med'cine will come closer to killin' me than that pile'a shit traitor did. Secon'ly, _I enjoyed it._ I enjoyed breakin' his bones and rippin' his throat out with my teeth. I haven' ripped some bastards throat outtin' years and it was really…”

“You’ve done that gross shit before?” Bulma retorted, eyes wide as she took her hand off his.

“Put that back.” He hissed.

“No! You’re being a sick bastard!” She replied, startled he was being so… _needy?_

“Bulma, I feel…really fuckin' bad. To be honest with ya this is prob'bly the worst I’ve ever felt'in my entire life and I’m on a _lotta_ med'cine rite'now. And honestly he _really_ could'a killed me and my brainnis' swollen, and honestly I jus' want ya to stay here with'me now.”

Bulma stared at the king with surprise, the severity of the situation dawning on her. _He really did almost die_. She watched as he grit his teeth, his chest hitching as the pain blazed through his body. _He would never admit that he needed her if he wasn’t on some damned powerful drugs…_

“I...I’m here Vegeta. I’m here with you as long as you need me. I love you.” She whispered, her eyes welling with tears as she gripped his shaking hand once again. He needed her now, and regardless of what had taken place just over an hour earlier, she _still_ loved him. No matter what, she loved him.


	18. Soothing the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma stands by her man as he heals, Nappa reveals a dirty little secret and briefs Vegeta about the Saiyan traitor.  
> Celera is coming closer to finding her wishing orbs- but Tarble is upset over the treachery she has planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 12-18-17

 Bulma stayed beside her king as he slept fretfully, waking often due to the pain medication being unable to keep up with the excruciating healing process going on inside his body. He had been moved to his bed and had been ordered to be kept warm, something he wasn't at all keen on since his body was burning up inside.

“I do NOT need to be covered up like some pathetic child!” He had complained, refusing the many blankets the had nurse brought him, growling menacingly at her before Bulma calmed him- she was the only one who could in his medicated state.

Bardock looked over to Nappa, who had just entered the conversation area where the general had been dozing at his post.

“That alien woman can talk some sense into him, it’s… _surprising,_ to say the least _._ ” Bardock sighed, looking up at the much larger, bald general. Nappa shrugged, glancing into the bedroom as Bulma spoke to the king, covering him up to the doped monarch’s disdain. But Vegeta _didn’t_ resist… and that was not an easy feat when it came to dealing with the king on a normal day.

“I practically raised the kid during the Frieza years, he has an obstinate streak and a temper like his damn mother. I’m surprised anyone can get him to cooperate while he’s in this state. This woman has been good for him.” Nappa said in a low voice, his arms crossed as he continued to watch the pair communicating. He grinned as Vegeta demanded Bulma lay with him instead of sit on the chair next to his bed, while Bulma complained that it would be inappropriate in front of the onlookers. Bardock gave Nappa a sideways look, shaking his head.

“She’s an alien, Nappa. She’s gotta’ go sooner than later.”

“Bardock, really though, why give a shit? She’s close enough to us. She’s not like, fucking green and slimy with tentacles and shit. If that was the case, you know, I’d agree with you.”

“She’s not a Saiyan though Nappa. Who’s to say he can even produce an heir with her?”

“Who’s to say they can’t?”

Bardock crossed his own arms and sighed, handing the glass tablet over to the hulking man as he made to depart his post, ready to be free from watching over the debilitated king.

“It’s not natural for any Saiyan to have an alien mate, but its blasphemy when it comes to our king, Nappa.”

“He saved our asses Bardock, if it weren’t for him killing Frieza we’d all be dead now. He deserves to take a mate of his choosing in my opinion.” Nappa said under his breath, logging into the tablet and grimacing at the news which scrolled across the screen. Bardock rolled his neck, cracking it twice before exhaling.

“Well, you have a point. But it’s still fucked up if you ask me- and I’m too tired for this shit right now. Let me know if anything changes with him. Goodnight Nappa.” Bardock yawned, making his way out of the kings chambers, and Nappa ignored him as he read the private briefing intently. The identity and intentions of the defector had came to light.

-

Bulma awoke, startled by a beeping that made its way from her bizarre dream to reality. She blinked from the light streaming in through the window, and felt fingers _tangled_ in her hair. The fingers gripped slightly as Vegeta blinked awake, looking over at her confusedly and removing his hand from her mane as if he had been bitten.

“Bulma, what the fuck happened to your hair?”

“What? What’s wrong with my hair?” She grumbled as she sat up, staring at the machine still hooked up to the kings arm. A red blinking light confirmed that the process was finally finished. She rubbed her eyes and suddenly remembered the situation, staring with wide eyes at the king.

“Your face!”

“What?”

“Your face is healed?” She said incredulously, noticing only a few small scabs around his cheek and eye- the same one that had been swollen completely shut only a few hours prior.

“I feel fine _keita_ , but why is your hair so damn long?”

“What?” She asked, not comprehending the situation at all. _There was no way he could be fully healed after that beating…_

“Your hair is like a foot longer.” He said confusedly, watching her as she looked around the room.

“Yeah I used this thing to make it grow…anyway, someone’s going come in here because of that machine, I've got to get out of bed.” Bulma sighed, pushing the covers down before Vegeta stopped her.

“I don’t give a fuck what they think.” Vegeta mumbled, holding her arm with one hand and touching her longer, silky hair with the other. Bulma gazed at him, her mouth set in a slight pout and her eyes brilliant in the morning sunlight. He watched her with a subdued fascination, _she was so gods damned beautiful._

“I still can’t believe you are healed…it’s just, _amazing.”_ She smiled, reaching out to touch his face as he pulled back with an eyebrow raised.

“Well, believe it. That shit is awful, but it does the job.”

“Why won’t you let me touch you?” She pouted as he took a deep breath.

“I need to shave.” He grumbled as she laughed, now noticing the black hairs shining in the sunlight. She hadn’t ever seen him this scruffy, and she giggled some more as he gave her an unamused glare.

Bulma felt like a ton of weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and was more than relieved that her lover was back to his normal self, without the pain or the altered state of mind that had made him more than unreasonable. So now she could laugh, _now_ she could smile.

“Do you remember anything about last night?” She asked just before he ripped the IV out of his arm.

“Not much.”

“God damn it Vegeta! That was gross!” Bulma exclaimed, making a disgusted face at him as he dropped the needle to the floor.

“I know I made an ass out of myself, I always do when I get hooked up to that shit. But that was the worst I’ve been beaten in a long time, _that was rough_.” He grinned slightly, remember the fight and his victory fondly, despite what he had to endure afterword. Bulma began to speak to him as the bedroom door opened without warning.

“Well, well. I see _you’re_ feeling better.” Celera breathed, making a face at Bulma who sat uncovered in only her tank top and panties. Bulma’s face reddened as she scrambled to pull the blankets up to her chin. She could hear a low grumble beside of her as Vegeta bristled, his tail immediately flicking in anger at his mothers presence.

“Why yes, mother. I do feel much better. Now _leave_.” Vegeta growled as he laid back on his pillow, shielding his eyes with his arm irately.

“Oh no, Rubra. No, no. You kept me out of your chambers as you lay dying, but you let your whore in? This needs to be addressed here and now!” Celera bawled as Vegeta sat up, glaring at her dangerously while Bulma pulled the blankets over the top of her head entirely. _This was just too much, too awkward, too embarrassing…_

“Mother, if I had my gods damn pants on I would get up and escort you out myself, but since I do not I will ask you once again to GET THE FUCK OUT!” Vegeta roared as Nappa came to the doorway, towering over Celera and rubbing his bald head.

“Ta hadt, Celera.” ( _good morning, Celera_ ) Nappa yawned, and Vegeta widened his eyes, throwing his arms up incredulously.

“Nappa, how in the name of all the gods did she get in here? I forbade her to enter my chambers at any time. _Any time._ How clear do I have to be? Do I have to give all you morons a fucking crash course in the meaning of _I do not want my mother in my chambers_ , EVER!”

“I wasn’t briefed on this, but I’ll be sure to make a mental note of that.” Nappa shrugged, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Nappa, get that blue haired slut out of here!” Celera growled, pointing a finger into the giant Saiyans armored chest. Bulma cringed under the covers, her own anger rising from the former queen’s cruel words. _If only she could disappear…_

“Oh come on Celera, your son almost died and his lover stayed by his side, faithfully, as _he_ requested. And believe me, he is as tough as you are. You’re lucky someone actually wants to put up with his shit like I put up with yours. Behind closed doors and out.” Nappa winked at the shocked Celera, and Vegeta stared at him in disbelief. Bulma mouthed a silent “ _Oh my god_!” As she stifled her laughter under the sheets.

“ _What the fuck_ Nappa, _seriously_.” Vegeta sighed, leaning on his covered knees and running his hand over his face in exasperation. Celera stared at the floor in awkward silence, her face as red as the setting sun and her arms crossed tightly.

“Rubra, come to my chambers when you…decide to get _out of bed_. I need to talk to you.” Celera demanded in a hitching voice before she turned and left the bedroom, leaving her lover standing at the door with a satisfied grin.

“Don’t count on it.” Vegeta called after her, thankful she was gone, but more than disgusted to know she was fucking Nappa.

“Is that damned doctor still here?” Vegeta asked, looking up at the bald Saiyan while he ran his hand through his own wild shock of hair.

“No, he left after your fever went down, he said the machine would turn off- ah, about now.” Nappa answered, glancing at the time on the tablet.

“ _Wow_ , I never would have guessed.” Vegeta said sarcastically, roughly pushing buttons on the machine, which continued to beep to his rapidly growing annoyance. Bulma emerged from under the covers, blinking up at Nappa who was enamored with something amusing on the screen of his tablet.

“Gods damn it.” Vegeta hissed, punching the machine over forcefully and causing it to beep no more.

“You could have just unplugged it.” Nappa suggested, looking up momentarily from his tablet.

“I don’t give a shit,” Vegeta sighed, laying back on the bed and once again covering his face with an arm, “Why don’t you get the fuck out of here so I can get up.”

“Why can’t you get up, I’ve seen your dick like a million times before, you know I don’t care.” Nappa mumbled as he scrolled through his screen, and Bulma couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Father fucking Onin, Nappa that's not the point. Go. _Now_.”

“Whatever, but I have to brief you before I leave.”

“Then brief me, for fucks sake.” Vegeta moaned, wishing that the bald bastard would just disappear.

-

 

The identity of the man who had nearly killed Vegeta was revealed, and his name was indeed Artich. He was sent off planet as a cub to destroy the world he ended up on, and he did his duty well. His lust for destruction was programmed into his head by Frieza’s scientists, a programming that caused weaker Saiyan children to display intense aggressiveness. The violent, animalistic conditioning led to a reliability in sacking a planet over the years that the child grew.

He had been picked up by king Cold’s battleship years after the sacking was completed, alone, beastlike and fighting tooth and nail before the scientists reprogrammed him once again, calming the boy and retraining him to fit into the life of the WTO military. The Arcosian king had taken a liking to young Saiyan due to his unusual strength, which was incredibly rare for a cub sent off planet.

A Saiyan child sent away wasn’t meant to gain a power level over two thousand, and at the time of pick up the boy had been just over nine thousand. This was an unheard-of number for a child of seven, and king Cold saw a pawn he could use. And use Artich, he did.

Cold had the boy trained by his best generals, and later, after the prince of Saiyans ascended and killed his son, he trained the kid himself. He promised the young Saiyan great status and riches if could ascend, and after several years of brutal, torturous training and near death experiences, Artich finally did achieve ascension.

And so, king Cold had a weapon he could use to take out the Saiyan monarch from the inside. Once the king was gone he supposed he could take the entire Saiyan empire out without having to get his hands terribly dirty. He could then sell the developed, mineral rich planet for a hefty price, and never have to worry about the monkey bastards ever again.

So, when the time came, king Cold sent Artich to Planet Vegeta before the Daestai games. He gave him enough coin to enter the battle, knowing the boy would decimate his lesser opponents, making his way up to the king and taking him out in the fight. He simply _knew_ that Artich was stronger, since the boy had been properly trained and groomed _just_ for that moment. Artich was king Cold’s prize, his trump card, and he had thoroughly brainwashed the boy to hate the king with an deviant passion.

But the king of the Arcosians was dead wrong about who would be the winner of the match. While the two ascended Saiyans were nearly equal in strength, one was _better_ , and Cold had severely underestimated the _better_ one.

The Saiyan king was trained for a good portion of his life by the son of king Cold, the much crueler and more calculating son. Vegeta was hardened by the paranoid emperor, a tyrant that didn’t praise _his_ Saiyan boy, didn’t promise riches or rank, but simply a slow, agonizing death of his person and race if he fucked up. The Saiyan that won knew how to fight like a frenzied animal backed into a cage, and the one that lost was the one who fatally misjudged the aptitude of the animals cunning- and _teeth_.

-

Vegeta sighed as Nappa finished the briefing, sitting up and rubbing his eyes as the hulking Saiyan went off topic, laughing about a woman that got her tail stuck in the revolving door at a major building. He went on about how hilarious the whole situation was when they tried to get it out, when Vegeta hissed at him to stop.

“Okay, I _don’t_ care, get out of my sight. Go away. Go to my mother’s chambers or something, I’m sure she would just _love_ to see you now.” Vegeta rolled his eyes and glared at Nappa, who threw his arm up dismissively.

“Alright, fine. I’m out. Have fun, and you two make up for not fucking and feasting yesterday, you got it?” Nappa laughed as he exited the bedroom, leaving Bulma and Vegeta to stare at each other perplexedly.w Nappa made his way out the chamber door with a loud crash that made Vegeta cringe, wondering what the fuck the moron broke on the way out.

“Gods damn him, that fucking bastard.” Vegeta grumbled as he rubbed his temples. The healing medicine always gave him a headache, but it usually wasn’t nearly as intense as a hangover. This time it was. _Much worse._

Bulma stretched, staring up at her king as he rose out of bed, his gorgeous body making her smile wickedly.

“I’m going to bath. I still smell like blood.” Vegeta groaned as he stretched, flexing his muscles and causing Bulma to sigh from the delightful view. He narrowed his eyes at her while she smiled coquettishly at him- It was a look that he liked to see grace her features, a look that meant they would definitely end up making up for lost time yesterday.

“Order some food up, then come rub my shoulders, _woman_.” He demanded, his tail swaying as he turned his back to her with a grin.

“Of course, _my king_.” She replied in mock exasperation, sitting up on her knees playfully and watching his ass intently as he walked out the door.

-

Celera’s chambers were mostly dark, the table between her and her youngest son glowed from the softly scented candles pillars she had lit to help sooth her headache. Vegeta, had of course ignored her request, and her anger had boiled over into a near migraine. Celera tapped her fingers on the arm rest as Tarble spoke to her, his voice low and careful when he mentioned that they had a lead on the wishing orbs. Celera took a long swig of wine, her face a blank slate as the name of the planet escaped his lips.

“They are on Planet BR-918 in the Groit system. Namek, as the locals call it. It’s a relatively close planet, about two days from here.”

“What about the locals, fierce? Numerous?”

“Sage people, small numbers recovering from a planet-wide anomaly that devastated their population. A people of magic it is said. Many very young, many old, predominantly weak fighters.”

The corner of Celera’s mouth tipped up slightly as she glared at the candles flickering on the table in front of her. She twitched her tail, thinking of all the possibilities, the riches…but mostly the death of the blue haired bitch. _She could wish for her own son to turn on the alien, kill her with the snap of his wrist…_

“Mother?” Tarble asked, noticing the former queen’s blank stare.

“Can the wish be for anything at all? Anything I can think of?”

“We aren’t entirely sure yet. But mother, do you really want to wish for something that changes him, makes him a different person?”

“I told you what I want, although it would be far more satisfying to watch Rubra kill her with his bare hands instead of just simply losing interest in her.” She grinned wickedly, the candlelight flickering on her features and making her look more and more dangerous to Tarble. He swallowed before continuing.

“Mother, that is particularly…malicious. I would advise against…”

“I frankly don’t care what you advise against, Tarble. I’ve put up with his disrespect for too long. I can’t handle him parading her around the palace, in front of the nobility, for everyone to see. Making a mockery of himself, of our people. Of _me.”_

“If it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t have a people. We would all be dead. Think about that before you make such rash decisions.” Tarble stated matter-of-factly, sipping his wine and keeping a blank face as his heart rate elevated.

He was not at all happy with the continuously evolving wishes his mother would fantasize over, they had become more and more hateful each time he spoke with her about it. But now, _now_ the wishing orbs were becoming a more of a reality, the possibility of her abusing the power had become uncomfortably real. Tarble was feeling increasingly unsettled by the possibilities that would unfold- sooner than later.

“We go tomorrow then, early. Earlier the better. Gather a crew and soldiers that you know best, the smallest number that we will need for the mission. Goodnight Tarble.” She smiled wickedly as she dismissed her son from her chambers. Tarble nodded his head to her without another word and left the room with a sigh.

He stared at the floor in concentration as he made his way down the corridor, his mind racing with thoughts of the treachery she was about to inflict on her unknowing king, _her own son_. He could just tell Vegeta of her plans and the whole scheme would go up in smoke, but he wouldn’t put it past his brother to execute their mother for treason. He couldn’t allow that to happen either.

However, should her wishes be granted, it would not only change his brother indefinitely- but it could possibly have a negative impact on the future of the kingdom and the Saiyan people. Who was to say what could happen when you tampered with magic, especially when it was to make a lover kill his own beloved? No good, _no good would come of this mess at all._

 


	19. Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cold forces attack without warning, and things escalate very quickly on planet Vegeta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -WARNING!!!: There is a MAJOR character death in this chapter! if this bothers you, please do not read. Just know that this is a universe where dragon balls exist ;>
> 
> -Its good to be back! Next chapter is in the works, and I'm thinking that this story will wrap up within 3-5 more chapters. Its bittersweet already! Thanks for reading everyone!
> 
> -Also a big thanks to lavampiremerveilleuse from tumblr for doing a read through for me!

She had insisted on bubbles, _bubbles,_ and at the time he was very resistant. But in retrospect, he was very pleased she had gotten her way. After he had rinsed in the shower he had went to soak in his tub, lying in the hot, running water when she entered the steamy bathroom with a coy smile.

She pranced through the door, swaying her ass and humming a tune he had never heard before. He side eyed her as she slipped her off t-shirt and panties, letting her silken hair fall from the ponytail that it had been held up in, letting it cascade just below her shoulders in a brilliant flash of teal. She grinned naughtily as she bent over, producing a bottle from under the basin, then strolling over to the tub with it behind her back. _As if she was hiding something, tch._

“Don’t you _dare_ , keita.” He had growled half-heartedly, his eyes narrowed as the hot water filled the tub.

“Oh come on Vegeta! It will be fun!” She had pleaded, on and on until he had caved in, teeth bared and staring at her tits as she leaned over the faucet and poured the vile pink liquid into the water. Maybe it was her irresistible charm, maybe he was still euphoric from his battle… he wasn’t sure, but he knew that it had been _quite_ pleasurable, despite the wretched smell that was produced by the product in the bottle.

But Bulma, _gods_ , she was divine as she slid in the tub, the bubbles surrounding her form, her hair full of it as she leaned in to kiss him deeply, her breasts bobbing up and down playfully through the foam when she rode him. That had made the humiliating froth _completely_ worth it.

But the hours had passed, and Vegeta glared at her, standing in the doorway with her hair back in a lumpy ponytail, her hand on her hip and the side of her mouth turned up in a half grin.

“I can’t stay forever Vegeta. I’ve got to go back to work in the morning, there’s so much to do with the capsule project now.” Bulma explained as he crossed his arms, curling his lip slightly in annoyance. He wouldn’t push it of course, but he didn’t want her to leave him. Nearly dying had made him a bit needy, and now she was talking about going back to her flat and leaving him alone for the night. The king would be sleeping in the corner of a huge bed, by himself, like most nights. _Gods damn it._

He had wanted to argue, wanted to fight her wishes to leave, wanted to grab her waist and hold her close, breath her in and take her to bed… but he also had work to do, and she was invested in the Capsule project. It _was_ a very important project after all…

“Whatever, woman,” He sighed as she grabbed her purse from the side of the chamber door, “I’ll take you home.”

“You? Take me home? Are you kidding?” She asked with a confused smile, it wasn’t like him to take her home himself. In fact, she had always taken a car from the palace to her flat.

“Yes, gods, why are you so shocked?” He growled, knitting his eyebrows together and slipping his boots on hastily.

“I mean, I just…” She trailed, not quite knowing what to say to him. She knew it was stupid to be so enthralled with his decision, but she couldn’t help but feel her heart swell with a giddy joy.

 She opened the door to the corridor, ready to make her way out when she saw Tarble passing by the door. Tarble looked around at her, slightly startled as he stopped abruptly, his tail swaying in visible distress. He glanced at the two silent guards, then warily back at Bulma.

“Hey, are you okay?” She asked, noticing his unusual demeanor and feeling a wave of stress replace her joy in an instant. _Why, why was she suddenly so uneasy?_

“Bulma, oh I was just passing through. I’m very well, but I have to head back to my…”

“Tarble.” Vegeta interrupted, noticing a hitch in his younger brother’s voice he didn’t much care for. He moved Bulma gently out of the way to get a visual read on the prince.

“My king, I am glad to see you doing well.” He gave an insincere smile, and Vegeta narrowed his eyes suspiciously. His brother, of all people, should know that it wasn’t an easy task to hide emotions from another Saiyan, especially those with the same blood.

“What’s going on Tarble?” Vegeta asked, motioning for Bulma to stay in the room and closing the door behind him. Bulma complained from within but the king ignored her, turning back to face Tarble with a dark stare.

“Nothing brother, I, just it’s been a long day. I’m heading off planet with our mother tomorrow and I need to get some sleep.”

“I hadn’t heard of this, where are you traveling to?”

“Well, you wouldn’t know as you _have_ been shacked up with your woman all day...” Tarble gave his brother a weak smile, and Vegeta met it with a blank stare, “We’re traveling to the Azlanian planet. Mother wanted to do some shopping during the _Arocai_ festival.” Tarble lied, the words spilling out of his mouth felt wrong, inky and full of betrayal.

“All the way to Azlan to shop?” Vegeta retorted, his tail flicking in growing agitation. His brother was a horrible liar, and he knew something was off.

“You know our mother.” Tarble swallowed.

“Oh, I do Tarble. Do I ever know _our_ mother.” Vegeta hissed, moving toward Tarble like a predator on his prey. He grabbed the front of Tarble’s  tunic, clenching it tightly as the prince took a deep breath, holding up his hands in a submissive gesture, his dark eyes wide with fear.

“Vegeta I…”

“Tarble, you need to let me know if she is plotting some shit, so help me…” Vegeta trailed, baring his teeth as the door opened behind him.

“Vegeta, what are you doing?” She blurted, grabbing him by the shoulder as he reluctantly let go of a very shaken Tarble. Vegeta glared at his brother, nodding his head in dismissal.

“ _Ta ryeh tai Vegea, Bulma._ (Good night my king, Bulma.)” He bowed his head and made to turn as Vegeta grabbed the back of his collar.

“If you conspire with her to end this, _to kill her,_ ” Vegeta murmured into Tarbles ear and nodded toward Bulma, still standing with her arms crossed, “I will _end you_. I don’t give a shit if you’re my blood, or that the bitch is my mother. I will _not_ stand for treachery, I _will_ find out, and I will rip your limbs off one by one, and burn her alive.”

Tarble stared wide eyed at his royal brother, who gazed back with a unsettling blank face. He nodded, trying to swallow despite his dry mouth.

“Go.” Vegeta asserted, letting go of Tarble’s tunic collar and taking a deep breath before he turned around to face Bulma. She glanced at the king with one eyebrow raised, then looked past him to Tarble, who was making good speed down the corridor.

“What’s going on Vegeta?” She asked quietly, her previous fury replaced by an uneasy confusion. Vegeta looked into her eyes for a moment before diverting them quickly toward the door.

“Meet me outside on the balcony, I’ll take you home from there.” He spoke in a low voice, watching as she put her jacket on before turning to the two guards who had witnessed the entire exchange

“If either of you speak of this, you can bet both your asses that you will end up a shit stain on this floor.” He snapped, slamming the door behind him and leaving the guards to glance at each other, wide eyed and shaking their heads.

-

 _They_ had told him to take it easy, but Vegeta would be damned before he lounged around the palace for a week. He needed to train, needed to release the stress that felt like it was boiling over from the fight held just days before…the one that had nearly killed him.

The king narrowed his eyes at the Saiyan in front of him, _the boy_ ….the stupid one with the stupid grin and a _very_ stupid power level that he had no business of possessing. He wanted nothing more than to smash his goofy face into the ground and press a royal boot into the back of the imbecile’s head, making him eat sand and beg for mercy. He knew that would never happen, since the idiot was as strong as he was… _but still_. He gave a ghost of grin, and Kakarot lifted one golden eyebrow suspiciously.

 “Whats up? What are you smiling for?” He asked cautiously as Vegeta spat. _As if he had to explain himself to this kid._

“Shut up, fuckwit. Put up your guard!” He barked, sending a blast of energy at the younger Saiyans’ feet, making him jump to avoid toasted boots. The king watched his opponent with teeth bared, taking his own stance and waiting to strike as Kakarot took flight. The younger Saiyan rose with mind numbing speed, sending a barrage of golden blasts at the king.

Vegeta knocked the flashes back with ease and bolted into the overcast winter sky, twirling around Kakarot in a flash and raising his clasped fists above the Saiyan. He brought them down for the strike when Kakarot moved at the last second, sending a blast of Energy at the king, who knocked it back and shot his own flash of energy at Kakarot. Vegeta hit his sparring partner in his armored chest, knocking him over in a midair flip.

“Oh, ah! That hurt!” He called out with a grin, despite the pain from the blast.

“That’s the point.” Vegeta ridiculed distractedly as he noticed a ship from the city had slowed to a halt, hovering above them. Vegeta rolled his eyes and let go of his ascended aura, slipping back into his normal, dark haired form in an instant. He crossed his arms impatiently, waiting for the news that _just couldn’t wait_ until he got back from training.

 Bardock jumped out of the ship, and Vegeta narrowed his eyes. _Bardock wouldn’t have traveled out here unless it was important._ _This isn’t going to be good news…_

“My king, we tried sending a message, but…well, the southern city of Partha has recently come under attack by the Cold forces, and we just got word that multiple cities to the west…”

“Under attack?” Vegeta spat, eyes widening in shock and fury. “How in all the hells did anyone get within a lightyear of this fucking system without us knowing, much less be on the gods damned planet!” He snarled, his anger boiling over as Bardock shook his head.

“Experts have claimed it’s a new cloaking system…”

“Fuck that!” Vegeta barked, raising his energy and once again ascending in his state of rage “Where is the bulk of the enemy force now?” _This is happening too fast, I  have to manage this, I have to manage this now…_

“The South.”

 “Gods damn it, I’m staying in my city! Kakarot, go to the south and hold nothing back, Bardock, go with him and manage the Southern forces. Send Nappa to manage the Western forces. _Gods._ ” Vegeta clenched and unclenched his gloved fists. He wanted to be in each of the cities at once, but of course that was impossible. He had to stay and hold down the capital, the biggest city on the planet, _his_ city.

The three Saiyans glared over their shoulders at the capital as the city wide alarm sounded, announcing that attack was imminent. It called out in drawn out wails, warning the civilians to duck and summoning the forces to prepare for war.

“Go, now!” Vegeta hissed as Kakarot jumped onto the ship with his father, the pilot pointing the nose to the south. Vegeta powered up with a golden aura, rushing back to the capital to give orders, prepare the forces…and find Bulma.

-

Bulma was in the lab when the warning sirens started blaring. She took off her magnifying goggles and looked around at her co-workers as they reacted in their own way, glaring confusedly at one another or immediately checking their handhelds. Most of them started chattering together as they news feed popped up on their screens.

A Saiyan scientist played a live cast and they all began to listen in silent horror as the commentator spoke of attacks on several cities planet wide. Bulma felt a nauseating fear in the pit of her stomach growing, making her heart race as the news poured in.   _How, how could this happen?_

Bulma exhaled, trying to calm herself before putting the goggles down on the table. She glared at her handheld, watching the live footage of the assaults displayed in horrifying clarity. _The Cold dynasty….but how!?_

“We need to get out of the lab.” One of the squatty alien scientists proclaimed in a bizarre warble, “It will be a target for the enemy forces.”

The others agreed, gathering their belongings with an inexplicable calmness that unsettled Bulma in a way that made her skin turn to gooseflesh. She took another deep breath, closing her eyes for a short moment before picking up her handheld, wondering if she should contact the king. She typed the message on the screen

_What’s happening? Where…_

She stared at the blinking cursor and swallowed, deleting the line and closing her handheld. He had enough to worry about without her being thrown into the mix; she could contact him after she got a few things from the flat. She gathered up her pack, containing her precious capsules, and left the building in a state of surreal dread, stressing over the few stupid sentimental items she needed to grab before… _before what? Nowhere is safe now._

-

Tarble rubbed his forehead as the news poured in over the intercom. He and his mother sat next to one another in the command center aboard the _Setin II,_ his personal ship, the one that was destined for Namek and some mystical wishing orbs. Their voyage had only made it a few hours out when the news of the planet-wide assault came pouring in, each report worse and worse.

“It must be some sort of sophisticated cloaking, that’s the only way they could have got within the boundaries. This is probably the retaliation that was meant to happen after their champion was supposed to have killed Vegeta. They decided to go through with it anyhow, probably hoping he was still gravely wounded.” Tarble spoke with a blank stare, watching the screen without seeing it, his mind racing.

Celera took a sip of wine. She was already halfway to drunkenness and irritated, her rage was quickly being replaced by shame as the news poured in.

“The capital. They’ve hit the capital.” Was all she could manage, tapping her fingernails on her wineglass worriedly. Tarble nodded, looking over at her and grimacing as she gave a weak smile.

“Maybe they’ll kill the alien bitch first thing, save us a lot of irritation.” She spoke without amusement, as that game had gotten stale very quickly. Tarble looked at her in shock. He knew she was obsessed, but to say something like that at such an inappropriate time?

“Gods mother, listen to yourself! This is our home, we’ve got to turn back we haven’t got time for your _games_. The news is that the capital is being assaulted now, we’ve got to turn back.”

Celera averted her gaze from Tarble, her eyes welling with tears. She was hells bent on destroying her eldest sons aspirations only minutes earlier, and now she feared for him. A fear as real as when Frieza’s cronies dragged him out of the palace, biting and screaming as a little boy. She was useless to him them, and even less than that now.

“We can wish the enemy away Tarble, surely we can. If the wishing orbs are as powerful as the rumors say they are…”

“Mother, we haven’t got time, it will take days to get to Namek.”

“We will just die with the rest of them if we go back!” Celera shouted, tipping her wine glass up and finishing it off with shaking hands.

“We still need to make it to an ally planet, we are helpless targets out here in open space. If the enemy was crafty enough to make it to Vegeta without notice, they will be tracing Saiyan ships near the planet. My guess is that they are on a path of extermination. We’ve got to go to Jaita or Ot’fris."

“Okay, okay! Go, get us to the nearest ally planet then. Damn it all!” Her voice hitched as she spoke, her dark eyes barely holding back tears. Oh, how her feelings had changed so suddenly, and how she hated it! Her oldest son, the one she had lost so many years ago was facing a great threat again. The son who had been through so much, the one who had saved the Saiyan race. The one she was plotting against- to have him kill his own lover… the notion seemed absolutely sick, unfamiliar to her now.

“Rubra is so young to have so much on his shoulders.” She said, her voice trembling as Tarble glanced at her in confusion.

“Mother?”

“I was plotting against him, our king, my _son_! And now he may die trying to save our people. _Again_.” She blurted, letting her tears flow freely as he took a deep breath.

“He won’t die. He can’t. He’s got this under control.” Tarble reassured in a low, soothing voice, despite his fear for his planet as well as his mother’s sanity. She was so consumed with rage such a short time ago, ready to travel to the middle of nowhere for a chance to wish for something so _heinous_ …a disturbing, petty hatred. And now it trickled away, down her face in a stream of tears. _She’s losing it…_

“Pilot, set the course to Ot’Fris at once.” Tarble commanded the man behind the helm, and the ship changed its course immediately.

-

The battleship appeared over the city as suddenly as the snap of a finger, blotting out the sun and casting an ominous shadow over part of the metropolis. The civilians in the streets glared up at the ship in horror as a horde of small aircrafts came pouring out of the hatch, descending on them and their homes without mercy.

Bulma had made her way back to her flat, scrambling to grab her irreplaceable, sentimental belongings when the sky outside darkened, and the booming destruction started somewhere in the not-so-far distance. The situation reminded her of the day she escaped from Earth, years ago, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. This was real, this was now, the explosions were getting louder and everything was happening so fast that she couldn’t think straight.

“Shit, shit SHIT!” She exclaimed, grabbing the photo of her parents off the mantle and throwing it into her pack just as the building was hit, sending the entire structure swaying and causing her to lose her footing. She managed a pained whimper as her knee hit the coffee table, and she pushed herself off of it gracelessly.

She landed hard on her behind, glancing around frantically at the books and items that had fallen off the shelves, broken glass on the tile, the kitchen full of dishes that had shot out of the cabinets. Her television was sparking, facedown only feet away. The sirens wailed as the sound of explosions continued, and she grabbed for her missing handheld in a panic. She exhaled as she saw it laying several feet away.

“Oh my god. This is unreal.” She whimpered to herself as she rolled over to her handheld, clutching it and reading a single message from Vegeta:

_Where are you?_

She exhaled anxiously as the building began shaking from external explosions, tapping at the handheld with trembling hands:

_The flat, it’s been hit._

She sent the message just before the next sudden explosion sent her flying back against the wall, screaming as she hit it with excessive force. She breathed hard as incredible pain flooded her entire body, tears flowing as she looked outside the windows, all broken, watching two enemy ships dart past with an ear shattering roar. She could taste blood. Her mind felt fuzzy, dark and distant. _Fuck, I’m going to die. This is it…_

Bulma struggled to pull herself away from the wall, her left arm broken and hanging uselessly as she crawled excruciatingly toward her handheld again, picking it up and seeing that the screen was shattered and useless.

“Agh! Damn it! Damn it all…” She cried feebly, throwing the inoperable handheld across the floor in agitation, hoping against hope the king would be there soon. Very, very soon.

-

Vegeta had just finished addressing his top generals when his handheld buzzed, he had scowled at Bulma’s message, sending  a quick ‘ _I’m coming’_  before flying to the eastern side of the city where her flat was located. He had wanted to get her to safety before the Cold forces arrived, wanted to put her in the most secure part of the palace where she would be sheltered, where she wouldn’t be hurt… but _now_ , now that plan had gone to shit. The enemy swarm had descended upon his city with such sudden and aggressive force that he had to fight his way to her.

“Gods damn you!” He roared, sending a huge ki blast at the battleship, which had begun sending devastating cannon beams into the heart of the city. It wasn’t enough to take the ship down, he couldn’t risk it flattening half of the capital, but it was big enough to let the bastards know he meant business.

He stopped midair for a moment to get a bearing on his direction, watching in irritation at the innumerable enemy and ally ships, as well as soldiers, swarming together over the smoking metropolis. _Shooting, attacking, falling._ Ships went bursting into sides of skyscrapers, sending out deafening explosions from every direction. The sirens still wailed.

Vegeta clenched his fists in agitation trying to see past the dust and acrid smoke, noting only a few of the tallest towers now stood above the cloudy ruin. He narrowed his eyes as he noted a familiar energy, he was close enough to Bulma to pick up her life force from the countless other souls in the area.

He started off in her direction when he took a blast to his back, hard enough to toss him forward in the air but not enough to hurt him at all. He turned around with his canines bared, facing a squat green alien with four goofy looking eyes and an ugly face that he knew all too well.

“Guldo, you unbelievable piece of trash…” He trailed, blind rage causing him to forget his mission momentarily and swoop on the disgusting creature.

“Oh Vegeta, how pleasant it is to see you too.”

“Shut your shit eating mouth Guldo!” Vegeta bellowed, raising his fist to punch the life out of the alien when Guldo threw up his dumpy hand, causing an overwhelming wave of revulsion and paralysis to halt the king. Vegeta tried to move, but the paralysis stopped him from doing anything more than strangled speech.

“Ah ah ah, Monkey! I’ve got a few new tricks up my sleeve to deal with you!” He laughed a throaty laugh and wagged his stubby finger mockingly, making Vegeta want to self-destruct just to end the gross cackling right then and there. _Nobody this weak should have psychic powers like this…_

“Don’t…” Vegeta stammered, trying to force words out of his numb throat.

“Don’t? Don’t what Vegeta? Don’t do this? Boooo hooo!” Guldo giggled, balling his hand into a round fist and making the paralysis stronger, causing nausea and stinging pain to rush through Vegeta’s entire body.

Red, vile rage and throbbing pain was all Vegeta could feel when an energy began to grow inside of him. A hateful energy, a maddening rush that rose, making the psychic hold on his body diminish. Guldo was going to die, the awful creature in front of him would not stop him from his mission. No way would Bulma die because of the worthless green blob. _No. Fucking. Way._

“Don’t EVER underestimate me!” He boomed, letting his energy belt out of his body in an exploding electric current so powerful it surprised him, and stunned Guldo. The alien’s four eyes widened in disbelief as bolts of white, arcing energy hit his flesh, causing him to instantly lose control of the situation as he quivered from the electricity.

“Ow…OWWW! W-Wait you just can’t, can’t do this!” He stuttered in pain and disbelief as the king gained full control of his body and grabbed Guldo before he could flee. Vegeta held Guldo by the neck of his armor and slammed his fist into the enemies blubbering, grotesque face with a sickening, gurgling pop.

Vegeta glowered at what was left of Guldo’s ruined head before letting go of the alien, watching his corpse fall in a spiral, plummeting into the thick smoke below. He spat, shaking the stinking green slime off his hand before turning back toward Bulma’s life force… noticing something was very, _very_ wrong.

-

Vegeta descended through the smoke and dust to land on what was left of Bulma’s balcony, his heart sinking lower as he assessed the crumbling building. He departed his ascended state, swallowing hard as he walked over the broken glass that was once the door, hating the way it sounded as it crunched under his boots. He walked through the kitchen and into the darkened living room, stopping immediately in the doorway when he saw her lying on the floor, facedown and somehow _less_. Crumpled, unbrilliant, as she had been just the day before. He ran his gloved hand over his face, swallowing hard as his mind flashed back to her looking down at him, covered in bubbles, her half lidded blue eyes so brilliant…

His breath hitched as he leaned down to her, resting on his knees and watching, listening, sensing… _nothing_. Nothing but the sounds of explosions and fighting in the distance. He took off his right handed glove and placed a wavering hand on her head, running his fingers through her silky hair and pushing it behind her ear, revealing blue diamond studs.

The earrings were his first true gift to her, something he had just gotten a servant to pick out…but they suited her perfectly. _Just the day before she was laughing about something so stupid, singing a tune from her home planet, kissing him deeply, happy to see him healed…_ He shook his head, not comprehending why all these irrelevant thoughts poured through his mind as he stared at her body.

Vegeta turned her over gently before he stood, not able to bring himself to look at her pallid face. He quickly put his glove back on, balling up his fists, his mind unable to comprehend the entire surreal situation, unable to understand the foreign feeling of grief that was welling up in the pit of his stomach.

_But there she was._

Lying pale and cold, dead on the floor of the flat he had griped at her to live in. She had only a trickle of blood on her mouth, and he knew that it had been internal injuries that had ended her life. The brilliant teal haired woman with so much life, the one that had given him so much more than he had deserved…the only being that he had truly ever loved…was dead.

_Fucking dead._

_Dead. Dead, dead._

He walked back out onto the crumbling balcony, his heart pounding, staring down at his scuffed boots before taking flight. He rose above the thick smoke slowly, breathing in deeply of the cooler air above and watching the chaos that was still unfolding all around. He hovered in the darkening indigo sky, gritting his teeth and changing instantly to his ascended state. His aura flashed brilliantly as he roared into the oncoming night, primal, bestial, inconsolable. His only way of mourning in the utter chaos that had taken the entire planet by surprise. 

The Cold dynasty was going to end, _oh yes_ , and it would _not_ end with dignity.


	20. An Empty Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta struggles with foreign emotions after the death of Bulma. Later, he discovers a lead that could change his destiny.

They called him a god of war, likening him to a reincarnation of the deity Onin. He had fought with blind fury to avenge his people, his cities… _his Bulma_. And now Vegeta sat at a table in an improvised chamber, leaning on his arm, his hand squashing up the side of his stubbly face as he stared at the food going cold on the plate below.

 _A Saiyan who doesn’t eat is a dead Saiyan_.

He remembered this saying from his youth, had it been his father who had said it, or Nappa? Either way, it was true, and he forced himself to eat without savoring it in the usual manner common to the Saiyan species.

 _Hells._ If they could only see him now, his soldiers, his generals, his enemies… they surely wouldn't recognize him as their glorious god of war. They would scoff, wondering why a Saiyan would be so miserable over the loss of one single alien life. He had taken countless alien lives, what did this one matter?

But Bulma did matter, more than Vegeta could have ever have known was possible. His dejected demeanor sickened him, but her loss sickened him even more. In response to the foreign emotion, he had holed himself up in his makeshift room after the fighting had ended. It had been nearly a week since the fall of the Cold empire, and the only reason he had exited the shitty chamber that they had put him in while his was being repaired, was to train. And he trained by himself, far from the half destroyed capital and all the people who wanted to worship him.

His food was brought to him multiple times a day, his servants pestering him often to take his laundry, to groom or message him. He didn’t want to see them, or anyone. A few brave, or _stupid_ , noble ladies had come to his door offering to comfort him, to _pleasure_ him. He had sent them off in a tumultuous rage, telling them he would slaughter their entire families if they ever returned to his chambers.

And return, they did not.

He stared at the rest of the food on his plate with a sigh, pushing it away and leaning on his other arm, glaring drearily out of the window at the swirling snow. It rarely snowed in the capital, but after the sun had set it had begun to flurry, and after the night had settled the snow had begun to pour. It reminded him of his berserk fight through the frigid winds; the night that he ended the life of the Cold dynasty monarch.

-

Taking out the enemy forces on planet Vegeta was no small feat. It had taken three bloody, grueling days of fighting to completely decimate the forces, causing them to retreat early on the fourth day. The Saiyan army had suffered no shortage of casualties, but the Cold army had been utterly slaughtered. Many of the enemy soldiers lost morale and defected, the rest had been ordered to withdraw and protect the king on his home planet. And to the Cold’s home planet, the Saiyan army and its allies, went.

Upon landing on the planet, Vegeta had exited the battleship in a blood fueled rage, he came dressed in full royal armor with teeth bared, his winter cape flowing behind him like a bloody slash. His fleet had landed in the snow in hordes, opening their hatches to allow the soldiers to pour out in a frenzy. They were well fed on violence and blood, and being Saiyans, they were ready for more gore as they cheered on their king.

“We have lost children, parents, comrades and _mates..._ but we have gained freedom, forever. Never again will we bow to the Cold dynasty, never again! We will crush them today! Take no prisoners, rip all their fucking throats out, erase them from history! Our allies have come to ensure victory today, so that no species will ever bow to these tyrants ever again. fight well!” He had sounded to the horde before heading off to battle, and they revered him; they all would have followed him into the deepest hells and back.

He fought in a frenzied state all the way to the gates of the Cold palace, sending blasts of energy and decimating any enemy that stood in his path. Eventually they began to scurry out of his way, forgetting their king and fleeing for their lives. No one could stand up to the ascended Saiyan king, covered in their allies blood and showing no mercy or weakness. They knew good and well theirs was a lost cause. In the end, Vegeta had simply walked into the keep where king Cold, his nobility and family, had holed up.

He relished the shocked look on the Arcosians face when he had kicked down the door and entered the keep, blazing in golden sparks and sending incredible blasts of energy from each hand toward either side of the king; killing those around him immediately.

“You vile Saiyan filth! How dare you! How DARE you! We have the largest army in the entire universe! HOW DARE YOU!” He had screamed with an unfortunate waver to his voice, sending a barrage of purple blasts at the Saiyan in pure, unadulterated _fear_.

“HAD the largest army! All of them are dead, dumbass. You know you shouldn’t have fucked with Saiyans, _fucked with me_. You should have known better!” Vegeta had roared as he deflected the enemy fire with ease.

“No…No you _can’t! This can't be!”_ The Arcosian quavered, staring at Vegeta in horror as his fate became increasingly apparent. He turned to the wall behind his throne in desperation, hoping to blast his way out of the keep when the Saiyan was on him in a flash, hovering just behind his horned head. Vegeta easily threw Cold to the floor by his horns, adverting a frantic swipe from his powerful tail.

“And you attacked anyway, you fucking _moron_. Did you think this was a game? Did you think we would play nice?” Vegeta hissed, blasting furniture of out the way and kicking the fallen Arcosian in the jaw, breaking it with an audible crack and sending the monarch sprawling across the room. He landed in a heap against the opposite wall, bones broken from the force.

“This is too fucking easy, you can’t even stand up!” Vegeta taunted, rushing over to his enemy and grabbing him by the collar of his armor, throwing the much taller alien up against the wall and sending a glowing blast into his torso without a second thought. King Cold spewed blood from his mouth, his eyes wide with disbelief and his shaking hands going to the oozing hole that the blast had made. He looked up at the golden, gore covered Saiyan, who stared down at him with narrowed eyes and a wicked grin. He could only shake his horned head, gurgling inaudibly, unable to beg for mercy with a broken jaw.

Vegeta kicked him over on his back effortlessly, glaring at the shaking, whimpering excuse for a king who was bleeding profusely from his torso and mouth. He gave a dry laugh before walking over slowly to stand above dying monarch, pressing his blood stained boot on the Arcosians neck, savoring the popping sound it made as the trachea collapsed.

“This is for the Saiyans, for my cities, and f _or Bulma_ you pathetic son of bitch.” He growled, putting force behind his boot and ending the life of his enemy without hesitation.

The Saiyan soldiers had poured into the small keep, cheering after Vegeta crushed the life out of the Arcosian. The king of all Saiyans hadn't known they were there and glared back at them with a predatory stare. His bloodlust had been satiated immediately after the death of Cold, and then he felt… _shit_... how did he feel? _Empty._ He felt utterly empty.

“Kill them,” He growled,  motioning toward the opposite end of the room where the remaining Arcosian nobles huddled, wide eyed and babbling for mercy, “Kill them all.” 

 

He didn't look back as he made his way out of the room, ignoring the shrieks of the remaining nobles as they were torn apart by the Saiyans. He exited the palace to more cheers and praise, calling him the reborn god of war, the soldiers already celebrating a glorious victory. But despite all that had taken place, he couldn't have cared less about their worship. Honestly, he hadn't felt much of anything. Not even satisfaction. Vegeta walked past them all, entering his ship and closing the door to his quarters. He spoke to no one for the entire duration of the trip back home.

_-_

Vegeta made a face as he recalled the feeling of dissatisfaction with the kill. He should have been elated in the death of a mortal enemy, he should have been feasting and sparring, celebrating and fucking like all the rest of them. But he only wanted solitude and vigorous training. The training made him forget the stupid melancholy he had found himself wallowing in, to forget the empty, lost feeling that had swallowed him up. What exactly was this feeling… _mourning?_ Mourning was for weaklings, aliens that pitied themselves because they had lost someone. Mourning was not for Saiyans, and sure as shit not for the king of all Saiyans.

But nonetheless, he mourned.

He looked down to the chair beside of him, at the pack that Bulma had been stuffing before her untimely death. Stupid pictures, her capsules and goggles, wadded up paper, a notebook, about fifteen pens and silly trinkets from her home planet. If she hadn’t given in to her stupid human sappiness would she still be alive? What if he had made her a priority before his army? Those were questions he couldn’t answer, and ones he tried not to ponder on.

He picked up two blue studs from the table, the blue diamonds she had been wearing when she died. He fidgeted with them in between his fingers, angry with himself and with her; they reminded of the night that he had returned to the palace.

He had ordered Bulma's body brought back to be purified and preserved until his return to the planet, and upon his homecoming he knew that he needed to take care of her before anything else. The old priestess who had purified her body had handed him the studs without a word, leaving him to stare down at them in his gloved hands before he carried her shrouded body to the pyre, built by servants in his absence.

He had set the flame to the wood himself, alone in the vast garden of the palace in the dead of night. He had watched it with a blank stare, the cold winter wind tossing his heavy cape around, blowing his bangs in his eyes, never sitting or moving until the entirety had burned down to glowing ashes...

-

Vegeta's reminiscence was interrupted by a tapping at his door, he dropped the two blue diamond studs on the table and turned to the rapping in anger.

“Go. AWAY.” He barked, standing to make his way to harass the intruder when she entered the chamber, opening the door and peeking in with large, dark eyes.

“Cella.” He sighed, turning away from his sister, his anger draining away as she walked in to stand near him by the table. He hadn’t seen her since he had made a losing bet to her at the tournament.

“Brother, I wanted… I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your pity.” Vegeta scoffed, looking away from his sister with his arms crossed, tail flicking irately. The last thing he wanted was _sympathy_.

“I know that. But, well, I had the jeweler inspect the Catalpan diamond and there was more than enough of it for my jewelry. I asked him to make a set of Jewelry for the king first, for your return. And, well, I just wanted you to have this, I know brown isn’t your color but…” She trailed with a sigh, pulling a plain brown package from her bag and laying on the table, “This is for you.”

Vegeta stared at the package with a habitual _Tch_ , and watched as his sister exited the chambers without another word. _A gift…she brings me a damn gift??_

He gritted his teeth, glaring at the small box for a while before finally sitting back down. He stared at it for several minutes, angry at her, angry at the world, before picking it up and pulling off the lid. He pulled three paper wrapped items out of the package and sat them out beside of one another, tapping his fingers on the table agitatedly before breaking down and pulling the tissue off each.

The necklace was on a heavy rose gold chain, with a large round pendent at the end. The pendent featured a brown faceted diamond surround by filigree and small onyx gems which sparkled in the dim light of his room. The other was a tail clasp of the same color, with three smaller brown diamonds featured among the onyx and intricate filigree. The last was a matching ring, all made from the same Catalpan diamond he had lost in a stupid bet.

He noticed a piece of paper sitting on the bottom of the box, pulling it out to read the Saiyan words out loud.

 _Aye setta sa ciél gatcha, noro. Bai aline, Cella._ (You deserve so much more, brother. With love, Cella.)

He made a face, wadding up the paper and flicking it across the room. Did he deserve more, did he _really_? Another question he didn’t want to search for the answer to.

-

Vegeta began attending to his duties as days went by, but his demeanor was far testier than usual, making the servants walk on eggshells, and the nobles avoid him if at all possible. He had ordered Tarble to deal with foreign dignitaries visiting with their congratulatory blessings, and had seen his mother but once in passing. He just knew she was going to say something insolent about Bulma’s death, and he would have to blast her half way across the city, but she wouldn’t even meet his eyes. He was almost disappointed that she didn't speak up.

The nobles and servants chattered about his behavior behind his back, but no one dare say anything out of the way to their volatile king. Soon they had all declined to visit his chambers for bodily fear, aside from leaving a plate of food outside the door. He had made it well known that he didn’t want to speak to anyone unless it pertained to his kingly duties, and only those that he couldn’t get out of.

And _this_ was something he couldn’t get out of, a meeting of his top generals and the nobility. They were discussing the reparations of the city, the massive amount of coin it was going to take to repair it all, and the wavering post war economy. Vegeta leaned on his arm listening to the chatter without interest. He had finally shaved, donning a simple outfit of a gray, quilted long sleeve top, black pants and the typical white boots that seemed to never go out of style. He hadn’t felt like donning his armor or royal jewelry since the slaughter on the Cold home planet.

He listened halfheartedly to the mouths at the table speak, flicking his tail in agitation, nodding in agreement or giving a vague _fuck no_ to ideas he didn’t like.

“What about the palace infrastructure? We’ve got a small army on it now, and the royal wing in nearly finished… but with the money dwindling so quickly it will be hard to justify the completion of the palace until we get some of the public structures up and operating.” Tarble insisted, getting agreement from some, griping from others.

“I don’t give a shit as long as my chambers are done,” Vegeta rumbled disinterestedly, “Just get that finished and work on the public structures. The money will flow once we get the city back in order.” He shrugged, and the room moved on to the next topic.

That topic, Vegeta soon understood, was about returning to the old way; sacking a planet for its refined resources and valuables in order to rebuild the wounded Saiyan civilization.

“We need to rebuild as quickly as possible. Sacking some low level planet wouldn’t take any more than a day, at most.” Bardock had stated, and Tarble had retorted in anger.

“Absolutely not, we’ve just gotten allies… _allies_ for the sake of the goddess, for the first time in our history! We are finally moving up from being brutal savages to working with the rest of the species and contributing to the universal economy, not taking away from it. Sacking any planet, even if it is so-called _low level planet_ will mar the name of the Saiyan empire forever. No one in their right minds would trust us!”

“I’m backing Bardock up on this one, we could take some shit-hole planet with no problem, put that money right back into our economy and get our armies back to full strength. Then it won’t matter whether we have allies or not. We’re top of the food chain now.” Nappa shrugged nonchalantly, getting murmurs of agreement from many of the others around him.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, instantly remembering Bulma’s capsules. He knew she had created a working piece… _but had she recorded how it was created?_ That product would sure as shit bring in money and save the Saiyan universal standing.

“Wait, I just thought of something. Shit, Tarble, I need to speak to you in private after this. Enough of this subject.” Vegeta spoke up, startling the gathering who stared up at him in an absolutely stupid way that he abhorred. He knitted his eyebrows together and curled his lip up at them in distaste, and they all looked away at once, going back to another discussion as if he had never interrupted them.

-

After the meeting had been adjourned, Vegeta remained on his throne, tapping his fingers impatiently and watching each person leave before looking down at his brother.

“You wanted to speak with me, my king?” He asked with a bow, meeting his brothers dark, narrowed eyes with a flicker of panic. Vegeta stood, walking down from the throne and standing next to his smaller brother with his arms crossed.

“Bulma had been working on a scientific breakthrough, something that would benefit our war torn economy greatly if we can replicate it.” He disclosed, watching Tarble’s reaction carefully. Tarble’s eyes flickered to the left before meeting his brothers once again, questioningly.

“What is this breakthrough? I had heard she was using our labs but…”

“It’s called a Capsule, it’s about this big,” Vegeta made a shape with his finger and thumb, “and you can store ridiculous amounts of shit in it. It doesn’t change in weight or size, no matter how much you put in it. You can store food without spoilage, ships, whatever the fuck you want.” Vegeta confirmed, watching Tarble’s confusion turn to interest in a flash.

“Did she have plans for this? Did she make a working model?”

“I’ve used one. She had working models, her father was a scientist on her home planet. She replicated them herself only days before...” Vegeta trailed, grimacing.

“Something like that could make us rich without having to take over other civilizations. You have a conquerors heart so I’m surprised you’re agreeing with me on this, brother.” Tarble gave a half grin before Vegeta shot him a dark stare.

“We don’t want to be like those Arcosian pieces of shit anymore. _Not anymore_. Look at what they did to us, they were going to end us and that was a nightmare for every Saiyan on this planet. Anyone fucks with us and we will wipe them from history, but we’re not sacking planets again.” He asserted to Tarble’s satisfaction, and Vegeta huffed irately at his brothers happy demeanor.

“How long would it take to produce them if we have blueprints?” Vegeta asked, avoiding his brothers gaze.

“It’s hard to say, no more than a year, surely…A longer time than sacking a planet of course…” Tarble trailed as Vegeta nodded.

“If they exist, make it happen. I'll let you know what I find.” Vegeta answered stiffly, making to turn when Tarble grabbed his arm. Vegeta narrowed his eyes as the prince bit his lip in consideration, his mind racing as he thought of all the possibilities. _And…_ he wasn’t sure if he should mention the wishing orbs again, as they might have been a false lead all along... _but_ if there was a possibility they were actually real, the king needed to know.

“Bulma had a good influence on you. I’m sorry that she was lost,” Tarble spoke low, not flinching from Vegeta’s wrathful reaction, “Do you remember the wishing orbs we spoke about?”

“What the hell are you getting at Tarble?” Vegeta growled, uncomfortable that he mentioned her name. Uncomfortable, but secretly satisfied. A sort of validation of her existence.

“We got a supposed location for them. I was going to travel there myself, wish for the whole mess on our planet to be cleaned up. I know that sounds ridiculous…”

“Where?”

“Planet BR-918 in the Agais system. Known less formally as Namek.”

“Namek?” Vegeta repeated, making a face. Namek… _had he heard of this planet before?  
_

“It could all be nonsense, but it may be worth looking into. It’s about two days from us. Just something to think about, my king. Let me know if you find anything about this Capsule invention.”

Vegeta nodded, dismissing his brother and waited to take a seat until after the prince had shut the door to the throne room. His mind was racing, his heart rate elevated. The notion was absolutely ridiculous, as if some sort of gods damned magical items actually existed. It sounded so stupid. But Bulma had been convinced that they did, and if she believed in them, why in all the hells shouldn't he? He needed to know more about Namek and the wishing orbs as soon as possible… _especially_ if they had the power to bring someone back to life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So writing chapter came easily for me, and with luck the next few will as well. I did my own editing on this one, so hopefully it wasn't too much of a mess to read. Thanks friends!


	21. Liberation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scargo meets the king. The king has questions. One is freed from confinement, the other from his thoughts.

The prison was methodical, grey tiled and artificially lit, smelling like cleaning chemicals with a foul undertone of piss and pungent alien body odor. It was a dreary, hopeless place where most of the inmates had long ago lost the spirit to bang against the doors to their cells or fight the guards. It was useless to contest or complain. Nothing ever changed.

Scargo sat on a metal stool in his claustrophobic enclosure, reading one of his new books under the flickering artificial light. It was a boring read, but it had been given to him as part of his weekly enrichment- and anything was better than staring at the walls. He pushed his glasses back up on his nose and gave no heed to the footsteps making their way down the hallway outside his cell. More than likely just an inmate being marched in, another body to fill a numbered closet in the third quadrant galactic prison.

_Same shit, different day._

When the footsteps stopped outside his door he narrowed his eyes, putting a dog ear in the page of the book and placed it on the shaky table at his side. He turned around to face the ashen skinned guard, glaring at him through the barred window on his cell door.

“Green man, you got a visitor.”

“Who is it? Is it Bulma?” He questioned, immediately surprised to have an unannounced caller.

“Don’t know what a _Bulma_ is, green man, but you gotta’ put your arms behind your back for me now. No funny business.” The guard demanded as he entered the Namekian’s cell, and Scargo obeyed, letting the cold metal cuffs snap around his wrists. If he made a move to separate them he would be immediately shocked, a very unpleasant experience he wished to avoid as he walked carefully beside the guard.

After several corridors, Scargo was uncuffed and led into a brightly lit, sterile white room. He was commanded to sit in a stool in front of the dimmed visitors window, and he did so without comment as the guard left. The Namekian blinked to adjust his eyes to the bright light with his mind racing- just who in the hell had come to call on him? It had to be Bulma, she hadn’t visited in so long, it must be some sort of…

Scargo’s thoughts came to a halt as the dim filter over the glass turned clear, and behind it sat a young Saiyan man in full armor. He sported a flame of dark hair, his arms crossed and his armor plain, long sleeved black elastic with a white breastplate. The shoulder guards and accents were a dark crimson red, as well as the enamel symbol on the left breast.

“Who are you?” Scargo asked, feeling like he knew the young man’s face from somewhere… _somewhere_.

“Doesn’t matter who I am.” The Saiyan responded brusquely, his face blank, his tail swaying languidly.

“Then wh…”

“You’re a Namekian, am I correct?” The visitor interrupted, tapping his gloved fingers on his arm.

“Yes.” He answered simply, wondering what the hell was going on before his mind raced back to Bulma. Bulma, who lived on planet Vegeta; Bulma, who took the king of all the _damn_ Saiyans as her lover. _Something was wrong._

“Is this about Bulma?” He murmured, watching the Saiyan behind the glass narrow his eyes. His tail flicked.

“Bulma is dead.” The visitor answered seriously, his dark eyes never leaving the Namekian’s. Scargo ran his hand over his face, his mouth gaping slightly as he processed the information _. She couldn’t be dead, not Bulma. No way._

“How in the hell, what happened?” He asked incredulously, thinking of the teal haired girl he had become close friends with on their many spacefaring adventures. She had always said that he was like the brother she never had while growing up, and he also thought of her as a sibling as well. _She couldn’t be…_

“Doesn’t matter now, what matters is on Namek.”

“What about Namek?” Scargo questioned with narrowed eyes, not understanding where the connection was between his deceased friend and his home planet.

“Am I correct in assuming you grew up on the planet, and being one of the natives, that you know the people and their lore?” The Saiyan asked, ignoring Scargo’s troubled state.

“Yes. Yes, I did, I still don’t…” He trailed, putting the facts and the questions together, clarity washing over his face, “the dragon balls.”

“ _Good job_ ,” The visitor said sarcastically, his arms still folded as he sat back into his seat, “So I gather they are real?”

Scargo swallowed, not understanding how this Saiyan would know anything about the sacred dragon balls. The Namekian people weren’t too keen on folks finding out about such powerful and coveted relics. It would make their planet a glaring target for destruction if many knew of them. The Saiyan grimaced, motioning impatiently for the Namekian to speak.

“Yes.” He breathed, his hearts beginning to race as he feared for his people. Now that the Saiyans knew about the dragon balls what would happen to them?  They would be ruined, their planet laid to waste…

“I see the look on your face Namekian, I assure you I have no plan of harming your people or your damn planet. I need you to be my ambassador. As you already know, Saiyans aren’t exactly known for their civility. I step foot on that planet and your people going to go straight to the defensive. I don’t want that. I don’t want to have to kill people because…Well, I don’t.”

“You’re the king of the Saiyans.” Scargo exhaled, remembering all the stories of the infamous Saiyan boy and his atrocities, the flame haired destroyer of worlds in Frieza’s army. But this young man had none of the animosity that he would have expected; he seemed like an asshole but not a destroyer. _Maybe Bulma had a good influence on him?_

“Correct,” Vegeta answered casually, raising his arms and placing his hands behind his shock of black hair, “Let me ask you one more question before I have you exonerated from this shit hole.”

“What?”

“Do these dragon balls have the power to resurrect the dead?”

Scargo gave the hint of a smile, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. _For Bulma._

“They do.”

“Excellent.” Vegeta answered expressionlessly, standing without another word. He turned away from the overwhelmed Namekian, only grinning when he was out of eyesight. _For_ _Bulma._

-

Scargo was given time to change into his old clothing and gather his few belonging before being led out of the prison. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was outside of the walls, staring out at the black empty expanse of space beyond the glass of the prison port. The Saiyan king was leaning with his arms crossed against a small black aircraft, a stealthy machine made for tremendous speed. The Saiyan symbols and writing were all foreign to Scargo, all written in blood red enamel and intrinsically intimidating.

He was still trying to process the situation as he neared the ship, wondering how the king had known who he was or how to find him. Pondering on how Bulma had died, never dreaming he would be released from the hell of his captivity when he woke up that morning. And to be traveling with a Saiyan back to his peaceful home planet, the goddamn _king_ of the Saiyans, was like some sort of bizarre fever dream. _The elder will be absolutely pissed._

“Hurry up, I want to get the fuck out of here. This place smells like shit.” Vegeta complained, punching the release for the hatch and waiting irritably while it descended.

“I’m not too fond of it either.” Scargo grunted as he walked up to the ship, watching the Saiyan jump into the craft with ease. Scargo followed, throwing his small pack inside the open hatch and lifting himself up. Being in prison had made his body weak, and he wasn’t thrilled with how difficult it was to pull himself inside the Saiyan craft. _Of course these assholes wouldn’t have a ramp or stairs…damn monkeys._

He stood up inside the vessel and looked around at its dark, sleek design. He knitted his brows together as he walked in further, placing his pack on a metallic counter and breathing a sigh of relief for the freedom that had been granted to him. Captivity had been hard on Scargo, especially the sunlight deficiency he experienced throughout his imprisonment. UV lights could only do so much for a Namekian who thrived on sunlight. He wasn’t, however, quite so enthusiastic about spending the first day of independence with a murderous Saiyan king. Regardless, it was a huge improvement from his cell.

-

Vegeta sat at the cockpit pressing buttons and flipping switches when the Namekian entered the cabin. The engine began to hum as the machine warmed up, preparing for long distance space travel; a sound that Scargo relished. He had never owned a ship this nice, and he longed to be behind the helm once again.

“May I?” Scargo asked, motioning toward the co-pilots seat. Vegeta didn’t look up from his flight preparations but gave a grunt of approval.

“It’s been years since I’ve been on a ship.” The Namekain declared as he ran his hand over the supple leather of the second seat. He felt a rush of joy well up within him, a joy he hadn’t felt in far too long.

“I heard you were a pilot. A smuggler.” Vegeta murmured distractedly as he turned one last knob, the engine whirring vigorously as Scargo finally sat in the co pilots seat.

“Yes. Did Bulma tell you all this?” He asked, interested to know how much she had talked about him.

“Yep.”

“And that’s how you found me?”

“Yep. And I went through a lot of shit to get you out of here.” Vegeta grunted without taking his eyes off the runway, taxiing the aircraft to the takeoff position and waiting for the gate to open so he could take off.

“I was surprised you were by yourself, not having any guards. Or a pilot.”

Vegeta shot him a dark glance, tapping the intercom roughly with a gloved finger.

“What in all the hells is taking so long? _Grat_!” He growled, looking up at the gate that was taking far too long for his liking to allow for departure. The controller came over the speaker with a nasally, neutral voice.

“The gate will be opening soon sir. Please wait for the…”

“ _Fine.”_ Vegeta barked, drumming his fingers impatiently on the control stick, it would be just less than a day from the prison to Namek and he didn’t want to wait any longer than he had to. The two sat in silence for several minutes before Vegeta finally spoke up.

“I left without them, the guards, the pilot. I didn’t need them and no one’s going to stop me from leaving. This was something I needed to do on my own.” He acknowledged Scargo’s former statement to the Namekians surprise.

“I see.” Scargo answered, side eyeing the king questioningly before he noticed the gate opening, a complicated puzzle of overlapping layers revealing dead space beyond. It had been years since he had entered that threshold, and by the blessing of the all-god he would never pass through it again.

“About damn time.” Vegeta grumbled, navigating the craft to the takeoff position and heeding the signal to depart without hesitation. The craft hovered smoothly as the Saiyan navigated to the gate, the engine beginning to whir harder as he proceeded to exit.

Scargo watched silently as they left the prison, grateful but somewhat dazed by the unexpected turn of events. He didn’t look back after they had crossed the threshold, putting the prison behind him and his home planet, as well as Bulma, to the front of his mind. He had hoped his brothers would take back their prodigal sibling with open arms. But what of the elder, his father? Being a smuggler had meant that he had gone against the code of his people; the code to live a humble, kind life of servitude. Only time would tell if he would be an asset or a hindrance to the Saiyan king.

-

It was only a matter of hours before Vegeta surrendered the pilot seat to Scargo, much to the elation of the Namekian pilot. Vegeta had threatened him with the total annihilation of his home planet if he tried ‘any shit’, but deep down the king knew that the green alien had no intention of navigating to anywhere but Namek. He cared for Bulma, which irritated him, but he knew that her resurrection (and his newfound freedom) was his only motivation. Plus, if the autopilot destination was changed, the ship would chime in and let him know.

Vegeta moved around the small craft in an anxious boredom, exercising for several hours, then cleaning up in the washroom. He tried and failed to read a shitty book that the Namekian had brought, then failed again to take a nap in the cramped bedroom. He got up miserably, examining the kitchen cabinets for food despite his lack of appetite, settling on preserved rations simply for fuel.

Keeping his concentration off the ruminations running through his mind proved fruitless. He hated the thought of conversing with the Namekian, but the thought of lying in a dark room, wondering if Bulma would be the same when she returned, _if she would even remember him_ , haunted Vegeta.

He dressed himself in a dark navy sleeveless shirt and grey lounge pants, padding out of the bedroom and toward the cockpit. He stood in the doorway and clenched his bare fists, swallowing hard before taking the co-pilot’s seat and setting it back to a leaning position. He wasn’t sure if Scargo was sleeping or not, and he sat in silence, glaring up at the ceiling with crossed arms before speaking up.

“Have you ever seen anyone brought back with these dragon balls?” He blurted without looking over at the green skinned pilot.

“No, I haven’t with my own eyes. We rarely use the wishes for our own use, wishes are typically granted to virtuous beings. Aliens with honorable intentions.  Very few outside of Namek know of the relics, so I haven’t even seen them used in my lifetime.” Scargo answered without opening his eyes.

Vegeta made a face, wondering if the green bastards on Namek would know he was the king of the Saiyan race. If so, there was a good chance that they would deny him the use of the orbs. He _had_ been known as the _Destroyer of Worlds_ in the past…

“How do you know they, well, work? Why in the hells wouldn’t you all use the wishes for yourselves?”

“I know they work because my elder created them, and when he created his children he passed his memories to us.”

Vegeta made another face, glaring over at Scargo. The Namekian opened his eyes and gave the hint of a grin.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“We reproduce asexually. The Elder is essentially the father and mother of every Namekian on the planet, and he passes on his memories to us when we are made. When his time passes, the new elder will produce eggs, which will then hatch new generations of Namekian children to populate the planet.”

“That is absolutely fucked up.”

“Well honestly, I think it’s pretty fucked up that you mammals have to copulate like beasts to reproduce, but I’m not judging.” Scargo shrugged, relishing the reaction of the Saiyan prince.

“So you never…with Bulma?”

“What? _Oh no_ , not at all.”

“Do you have a…”

“No.”

“You don’t have a dick?”

“No.”

“That is, that is _something_.” Vegeta contemplated, rubbing his chin and trying to wrap his head around Namekian Biology. He was certainly relieved that the hideous creature hadn’t slept with his woman. The image of them having sex absolutely abhorred him, and getting _that_ thought out of his mind was truly a blessing from the goddess.

Vegeta hesitated before getting to the question that had really given him the most grief. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answer, but if he didn’t ask, the hours between their current position and the Namekian home world would drive him mad.

“Do, when they- when the person is wished back,” He hesitated, cursing himself for the foolish stammering, “Are they the same person? Do they have any memories of their life?”

Scargo glanced over at the king and then back to the panel in front of him. Vegeta felt his heart sink, cursing himself for the stupid human-like sentimentality that he was experiencing.

“They are the same person, no worries there. They remember their lives, but they don’t remember their time on the other side.”

“Good.” Vegeta answered, breathing an internal sigh of relief. As much as he wished to be alone, the conversation had dissolved the growing burden of uncertainty he had been carrying since embarking on the mission. He loosened his shoulders up, glaring out the window to his right, ignoring the millions of suns blinking in the vast expanse of space.

-

_The snow flew around the king as he stared up at a broken, crumbling temple jutting up into a grey overcast sky. He didn’t remember putting on his winter garb, but as he looked down he noticed his lined boots, insulated clothes and his heavy winter cape swirling in the gusts of frigid wind. In his confusion he ran his gloved fingers over the red enamel of his family’s royal symbol across his chest plate, reassuring himself that he was still himself, still the king._

_Without even thinking he wrapped his tail around his waist and approached the gaping entrance. He noticed anthropoid carvings above and around the entryway, weathered and worn, the words alien. This was once the worshipping place for some unfamiliar god of a long dead species._

_The king didn’t know why he felt compelled to enter the structure, but he had a feeling that there was a warmth inside that was beckoning him, calling to him despite the gloomy impression emanating from the building. His cunning, battle hardened self cried out ‘STOP’ when he entered the threshold, but his rebel mind ignored the call. There was something he needed to find inside the corridors of the temple, some reason he had come to this gods-forsaken place._

_The first thing the king noticed as he entered the sanctuary was how impossibly dark it was, and then came the unexpected scent. The smell…like rotting wood, wet leaves and alien earth in the autumn of their land. He made a face, recalling the exact odor from a planet he had sacked as henchman of Frieza. He remembered being blindsided and pushed to the ground by one of their bravest warriors, his face hitting the leaf littered earth and the scent of it filling his nose before it broke on a hard stone under the leaves._

_He was thirteen._

_He remembered rolling across wet leaves and jumping back up on his feet, wiping the trickle of blood from his aching nose with a maniacal grin. The warrior staggered back, the look of fear quickly replacing the grimace of courage. In an instant the prince took the insectile warrior by the throat, purple blood pouring over his gloves as he crushed the alien’s windpipe. In the dark he could picture that murder with a vivid clarity, seeing the bloodthirsty look on his childish face as he squeezed the life out of his much weaker enemy. The prince, Nappa and Raditz killed countless other beings that day, millions more..._

_The image faded away as he walked forward toward a speck of golden light, his footsteps echoing in the dark of the empty expanse of room. For a short while the king could sense nothing but cold, stale air, but then the smell and taste of blood flooded his senses, and with it, another vision._

_He was sixteen._

_The small bodied soldiers were backed into a huddle against a stone wall, a weak species with indigo mottled fur and large round ears. They had lost all hope and had begun to beg for mercy as the Saiyans approached. Mercy fell on deaf ears as the young prince shot two blasts of energy on either side of the huddle, killing multiple men in an instant._

_The few remaining tried to flee but Raditz fell on one while Nappa grabbed two, banging their heads together with a sickening crack. The prince seized the last one, punching him over and over until his head was nothing but pulp. He grinned, the blood from the soldier all over his gloves, his face, his teeth. The prince, along with his men, had already annihilated millions when they decided to toy with their prey._

_Again, the image faded as the king marched forward, the dot of light growing, radiating a golden warmth that he knew he needed to bask in. He started to run toward it, as stirrings of his past followed at his heels. His cheeks stung, he could smell salt._

_He was seven._

_The creatures were barely sentient, but they had pleaded for their lives when threatened with death. The prince stared down at one of them, a squatty alien with sparse white fur and large black eyes, pleading for its life in a high-pitched chatter. He didn’t want to kill it, but he knew what would happen if he didn’t. Saiyans were bred to kill,  and he needed to do his duty. Or else. That’s what Frieza had told him, and Frieza was the only one other than his father who had been able to control him. And he didn’t like to be grabbed and thrown by the tail…_

_The boy held one gloved finger out, conjuring a goodly amount of energy and looking away as he shot it toward the creature. Its chattering stopped. Nappa had commended him on a job well done, the Saiyan prince’s first kill. He had given Nappa a half smile before following him up to the skies for a lesson on how to shoot larger blasts, ones that could take out cities quickly and save them a lot of time on the job. Nappa couldn’t see the boy when tears ran down the child’s face, the first and last he had ever shed for an enemy._

_The image faded when the king made it to the room where the light spilled out brilliantly on the dark stone floor. He walked inside and immediately fell to his knees, covering his eyes with his arm as he was literally blinded by the golden light that filled the room. He grit his teeth and smelled…smoke?_

_He was twenty three._

_The king uncovered his eyes, still kneeling on the floor and shook his head in shock. The light had disappeared, and instead he was in a darkened flat, one that he had insisted that the woman live in, one that had been destroyed by the Cold forces. It was the exact scene he had walked into before. And there, near the wall, lay her body. But instead of the lab coat and pants she had been wearing, she was cloaked in thousands of golden petals, covering her form entirely aside for her radiant teal hair._

_“This is my payment.” He whispered with a hitch, although he felt like screaming. Screaming and killing, destroying worlds. That was what he was good at, not sniveling, not worrying, not mourning._

_“This is what I deserve for the shit I’ve done, right? Is that what this was all about!?” He called out to no one, as no one else was around to hear his shouts._

_“She didn’t… She didn’t do any of that. She was innocent.” He muttered miserably, crawling toward her form, terrified by what he would see when he got close to her. He swallowed hard, holding back tears as he knelt before the petaled outline of his mate and reached out to her, his hand trembling to turn her face when…_

_-_

“Vegeta?”

“Wh-what the fuck?” Vegeta blurted, startled by the baritone voice that had awoken him from his nightmare. He glanced around wildly, his fists balled and his teeth bared.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, its fine.” The Namekian reassured anxiously, waving his hand at the glass in front of Vegeta.

The king gained his bearings and calmed immediately. He blinked hard from the co-pilot’s seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose and glancing out of the window. In the distance was a small green marble of a planet, and despite the shake-up from his nightmare he gave a dry laugh.

“The whole planet is green.” He raised one eyebrow and Scargo shrugged.

“I’m the product of millions of years of evolution.”

“No shit.” Vegeta yawned, going over the details of his nightmare in his head with more clarity than he would have liked. Deep down he felt that it was simply an anxiety dream, but the details were so clear and _vivid_.

He remembered the smells, the feelings and tastes as if he were experiencing them once again, and a dream like that was just… _unsettling_. He made a face, remembering Bulma’s body under the golden petals. Although he was incredibly upset to see the scene in the dream, he felt that, in his awoken state, that the petals weren’t an ominous sign. In fact, they seemed the very opposite. They seemed _alive_. What would he have seen if he had gotten to turn her head toward his own in the dream? It was hard to say for sure, but he felt that he would soon find out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a hard time editing this one bc our house is small and my husband was watching movies all day (super distracting bc you can hear them in any room!)  
> Again, thanks for reading! Big things are coming up in the next chapter ;)


	22. Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta struggles with his thoughts, he makes a wish. Bulma makes a decision, she makes a wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reign won 2nd place for the most violent category in the TPTH annual awards, thank you so much friends!

“So, this is your village? No wonder you wanted to get the fuck out of here.” Vegeta grunted as he and Scargo crested the hill over the meadow that they had docked in. Scargo gave a ghost of a grin as he inhaled, taking a deep breath of the pure Namekian air. It was an amazing feeling, being free on his home planet once again. It was _almost_ nice enough to consider abandoning his old ways.

“You know, I missed it though. The land, the air. This is my home.”

“The air smells like grass and shit.” Vegeta complained absentmindedly, staring down at the village with his eyes narrowed. He wasn’t at all impressed, feeling highly skeptical that these people had anything more than indoor toilets; the fact that they supposedly possessed magical wishing orbs that could grant anything one could ever desire seemed like a bad joke as he looked down at the quaint community.

The village was scattered with squat, domed shaped buildings out of which green people started to congregate outside of, staring up with unsettling heavy browed eyes that made Vegeta uneasy. They all looked like males of varying ages, all bald with antennae and earthen colored clothing. _What a boring planet_. He glanced over at Scargo questioningly, wrapping his tail unconsciously around his waist.

“How did they know we were here?”

“They could hear the ship landing in the meadow, we Namekians have excellent hearing. Anyhow, let me do the talking. They know _exactly_ what a Saiyan is.” Scargo advised, uncrossing his arms as he made his way down toward a crowd gathering outside of the largest shelter.

“Yeah. You do that.” Vegeta murmured, glancing around at the odd blue landscape and wretched green sky. _What an ugly, fucking planet. No wonder Frieza passed this shit up._

Scargo announced a greeting in the Namekian tongue as he and the king approached the huddle. The natives seemed to be cheerful, patting their prodigal brother’s arms and speaking in a rolling language that Vegeta didn't understand. They gave the Saiyan a wide berth, leading Scargo to the largest home in the village with the king trailing behind, arms crossed and ill at ease. Shortly, a hushed murmer broke out among the group as an old man shambled out of the door, clutching a large gnarled cane.

“Scargo, it’s been many years my brother.” The heavily wrinkled man spoke in the universal language, raising one clawed hand in greeting, Scargo mirroring him. Vegeta thought the old man looked like a rotten vegetable sinking in on itself.

“It has been far too long, elder Moori.” Scargo said apologetically, bowing to the old man who smiled affably, patting the much younger and taller Namekian’s bald head like a father greeting his young son. Vegeta made a face as they interacted, and Scargo stood back up to his towering height.

“I see that you brought a guest.” Moori stated, looking over at Vegeta with calm, dark eyes. Vegeta made to speak when Scargo interrupted him, holding his clawed hand out in a dismissive gesture.

“He is a man with noble intentions, a seeker of the dragon balls. He has the request of the resurrection of a loved one from our eternal dragon, Porunga.” Scargo stated, and the elder nodded weakly, his antenna bobbing lazily as he moved his head.

“We will speak of this in time, but first we must catch up. You have been on the wrong path, brother. We have heard stories of your exploits.” Moori commented before turning to the rest of the Namekian crowd.

“Brothers, go back to your homes. Everything is well," The elder turned back to Scargo, "You and the Saiyan, please join me for a walk.”

“Of course, elder.” The smuggler answered and Vegeta huffed. He sure as the twenty-eight hells didn’t come to this _shitstain_ planet to chat and sightsee, and being brushed aside was a glaring jab at his pride.

“Wait a god’s damn minute…” Vegeta trailed when Scargo looked down at him with a stern look, making the king shut his mouth disdainfully, rage boiling up from deep within his being. _Nobody gives me that damn look…_

But Vegeta knew this wasn’t about him, not anymore. It was about Bulma, and there was no way he was going to fuck up saving her again, even if it cost him his pride.

-

The trio walked slowly, Scargo asking questions about the village and state of the planet as they strolled, Vegeta following with his face set in a deep scowl and his arms crossed. He was irritable, anxious and ready to see the dragon balls so that the resurrection of Bulma could come to fruition. He ground his teeth angrily as they walked beside a dark pond just outside of the village, the elder leaning on his cane heavily as he sauntered.

“I can tell you are in a hurry, child of chaos.” Moori said, observing Vegeta from the corner of his rheumy eyes.

“Wh-what in the hells do you mean, child of chaos?”

“Are you not the king of the Saiyan people? Once not so long ago, the royal child who destroyed so many lives?”

_Shit._

“I _am_ the king of the Saiyans,” Vegeta swallowed, glancing over at the elder with distrustful eyes, “But those are times past. I hav-“

“But you ended so many souls, purged the masses and sold the rest into slavery.” Moori interrupted, speaking bluntly to the Saiyan king.

“I didn’t sell anyone, that was Frieza... But yes, I ended countless lives. It was a part of the job.” Vegeta growled, balling his gloved fists up irritably.

“And you enjoyed it, didn’t you? Purging, torturing, murdering?”

Vegeta stayed silent, glaring over at the elder who now watched the ground as he walked. He wasn’t sure what he could say to appease the old man, and he knew that the saggy green fucker would know if he was lying. _He would know immediately._

“There’s nothing I can tell you that you don’t already know, old man. I maimed, I tortured, I ended a fuck ton of lives and I _enjoyed it_. There’s nothing I can do to change that now.” Vegeta stopped walking, staring at the elder with consternation. Moori put both hands on top of his cane and stared down at his hands. Vegeta grit his teeth, mentally clawing his way out of his guarded comfort zone.

“If you’re thinking I don’t deserve to make a stupid wish, you’re fucking right. I’ll agree with you there. But the person that the wish is for is innocent. She’s… she. _Gods_. She lost everyone, her planet, this asshole here,” Vegeta nodded to Scargo, who shrugged, “And at first, I didn’t give a shit about any of that, I truly _did not_ care about anyone other than myself. And this sounds just like some stupid, sentimental human shit she would say but…she made me see the world differently. She lost everything, including her life when she deserved to live. She deserves to _live_.”

Vegeta felt sweat beading on his temple, feeling torn wide open like a fool, but meaning every word that he had said. Scargo glanced over at Moori, and the elder looked directly at Vegeta for several moments, not speaking a word.

“She tamed you.” The old man finally declared, and Vegeta stared at him wide eyed _. Fuck. What? Had she_? Tamed was such a _strong_ word, and it unsettled him to think that the king of all Saiyans could be tamed by a weak little alien woman. He tried to come up with a sharply worded retort, but deep down he knew that the elder wasn’t far off from the truth. He stood with his lips parted, looking like a damned fool. _Gods. Damn. It_.

“I will contact our father, the grand elder and discuss with him your request, then we will decide what to do. Until then, I must speak with Scargo. You are welcome to follow, but I gather that you would rather not do so. Please make yourself at home on our planet, child of chaos.” Moori smiled genuinely, tugging Scargo’s shirt sleeve and leading him on past the pond.

Vegeta watched after them wordlessly, trying to process what had just happened and what the elder had told him. He sat down on the bank of the pond with his elbows on his knees, staring blankly into the dark green water as his tail flicked in agitation. _Tamed_. He was _tamed_. The destroyer of worlds, the so-called child of chaos, the king and savior of the mighty warrior Saiyans- _tamed._ And to add insult to injury, he had been put in his damn place by a green giant and a moldy old man.

He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the seeming abyss, scowling when something large, gross and scaly surfaced; attempting in vain to eat the stone. It swam back into the murky depths, it’s slimy tail breaching the surface of the pond as it did.

“Stupid creature.” He mumbled irritably, restlessly processing the complicated maelstrom of emotions that were swarming his mind. 

-

Vegeta walked around the area after watching the surface of the pond for what seemed like ages, finally making his way to perch atop a stony outcrop within eyesight of the Village.  He waited silently with his thoughts, practicing all the patience he could muster as the deep green sky turned a bruised purple hue, revealing a smattering of stars twinkling in the cool, alien sky. He watched as the moons rose over the ragged mountains in the distance, and tried in vain to ignore the native insects when they began their nocturnal chirruping.

He struggled with thoughts of Bulma, wondering if he would ever see her again, recalling memories of her scent, her touch and taste as the purple hued lantern flies danced around in the grass. He felt like she would have liked it on Namek. She probably would have loved the bizarre colors, the strange creatures and the native plebs.     

Negativity was not lost on him, however, and he couldn’t fight the feeling that the trip had been a waste of time, that he had been strung along and that the entire situation was completely fucking _stupid_. He had been shamed, brought to begging by an old, dried up Namekian who knew that he had possessed the upper hand from the start. And were these supposed magical objects even real? He hadn’t even set eyes on one yet, and he was beginning to feel like it was all a pathetic ruse. Some sort of twisted game.

He toyed with the thought of flying to his ship, getting the fuck out of dodge and blowing up the entire planet when the distant sound of footsteps brought him back from his unpleasant thoughts. He squinted, wrapping his tail around his waist instinctually as his less than stellar night vision failed him. He cursed Saiyan evolution for its ocular shortcomings and sniffed the air, picking up faint traces of the smuggler on the languid night wind.

“Scargo.” Vegeta called without standing, his breath fogging up in front of him as he spoke.

“Vegeta.” Scargo replied as he approached from afar.

“A verdict?” Vegeta growled, leaning on his knees as the Namekian came into view. Scargo approached silently, finally looking up at the Saiyan with the faintest of grins. Vegeta motioned for him to speak with anxious impatience.

“The orbs are being gathered. We will summon the dragon at dawn.”

Vegeta sighed heavily, leaning back on his arms and staring up at the millions of stars with a sense of utter relief. One of the mental weights had been lifted from his shoulders, liberating him temporarily from the ever-darkening confines of his thoughts.  

“You’re more than welcome to stay in the village.” Scargo added, and Vegeta shook his head, standing up on the boulder. He looked down at Scargo, his arms folded and gave a rare, approving grin at the Namekian below.

“I’ll be in the ship. See you at dawn .”

-

The dawn couldn’t come soon enough.

Vegeta used the washroom, cleansing himself before making his way to one of the dorms to try and rest. He found no comfort in the darkness of the cramped bedroom, leaving it behind to lay back in the copilot’s seat, staring through the glass at the stars in the indigo sky. He spent most his night tossing and turning, dozing in and out of sleep as his mind raced with thoughts of her.

He awoke often and found himself swimming in her scent, remembering it as if it still lingered on his skin. He could close his eyes and almost feel her touch, delicate fingers trailing over his back, warm breath on his neck; her eyes sparkling and brilliant blue under heavy lashes as she winked at him. He could see her smiling with an affection that he had never known in another woman. He worried.

He hated himself for not having the power to quell his anxiety, but he was a suspicious man by nature and still felt that the whole thing was some sort of machination. He was concerned that even if it wasn’t, there would still be some asinine reason that Bulma couldn’t be brought back from the dead- and that he would never see her again. He was worried about forgetting her, losing her face, her scent and touch- to time.

-

Vegeta had awoken on his own as the dawning light crested over the distant hills, and he watched the chartreuse sun rise slowly in the alien world of Namek.

It wasn’t long before the Namekian arrived at the ship, opening the door without warning and finding the king of all Saiyans laid back in the copilot’s seat, his arms behind his head and wearing full armor. Vegeta glared over at him with a look of subdued unease that seemed very out of place on his normally ill-tempered features.   

“I see that you’re ready.” Scargo observed.

He stood without answering, cracking his neck, his eyes tired as he glanced up at the smuggler. He noticed at a large, glassy orange sphere tucked up under the Namekian’s arm and made a face.

“Is that…one of the wishing orbs?”

“Ah, yes,” He answered, handing the ball to Vegeta, who held it up to face level, mesmerized at its ethereal presence. He noticed two red-orange stars on the inside, which stayed the same shape no matter which way the sphere was rotated.

“Gods damn, this thing is…”

“Amazing?” Scargo interrupted, amused at the fascinated Saiyan.

“Well I was going to say fucking weird, but yes. That too.”

We have the other six gathered and ready for the summoning, the elders will allow you to make your wishes in private, but I need to be there to speak to the dragon. Are you ready?”

“Let’s go.”

-

Vegeta stood in front of six dragon balls stacked in the middle of rolling field of blue. His mouth was dry and he swallowed as he approached, disconcerted when the orb he was holding started to glow with energy when he neared the other six.

“Is that normal?” He asked Scargo, setting the sphere down with the rest and watching them pulse in unison. Scargo nodded, looking down at the glowing orange orbs with dark eyes, smiling contently in their radiant presence.  

“They really are beautiful.” The smuggler said distractedly, crouching down and getting a better look at the dragon balls. Vegeta knitted his eyebrows, his arms crossed as he watched the Namekian's bizarre affinity for the dragon balls.

“Are you ready?” Vegeta interrupted in annoyance, bringing Scargo back from his wistful state. The smuggler pushed his glasses back up on his nose and took a deep breath, standing back up to full height.

“Are _you_ ready?” Scargo repeated, and Vegeta glanced up at him with a solemn nod. He had no idea what to expect, and he felt a sinking feeling wash over him as the Namekian stood in silence. The wind blew harder, sending blush colored petals from alien plants blowing in the wind. The world fell silent, and he felt entirely alone. _This was it. This was really it._

“Takkaraputo pop Purunga pupiritt paro!” Scargo shouted, his voice echoing through the valley, causing an immediate and unsettling change in the scenery. The sky churned with darkness, like there had been a sudden eclipse. Sparks of blinding light congregated throughout the seven orbs, blasting up into the sky with a crack louder than any thunder.

Vegeta hunkered down in astonishment, staring up in shock as the form of a green dragon erupted through the golden bolt and rose upward, growing in size until It seemed to envelope the starry darkness directly overhead. Its chest was the size of a mountain, its horns long enough to impale multitudes of people- it’s eyes glowed menacingly red, sending a foreboding chill down the Saiyan’s spine. _Nothing good could come from a monster like this…_

“SHIT! Scargo is THIS NORMAL?” Vegeta exclaimed, hunkering down on the ground and glaring at the Namekian who still stood, staring up with glassy eyes at the behemoth towering above.

“Yes.” He answered calmly, in awe, barely audible over the crackling of electricity that resounded through the heavens. Vegeta swallowed, still crouching as the Dragon spoke in the Namekian language, a deep and booming sound that shook him to the core.

“What is your first wish?” Scargo asked Vegeta as if it were such a natural, normal thing to be asking when the largest, most horrible creature that had ever existed filled the sky above.

“For Bulma. For Bulma to be brought back to life.” He yelled, not taking his eyes off the twisting form above. Scargo relayed his wish, and the dragon answered swiftly.

“Her body was destroyed by fire, you have to wish for her body.” Scargo translated, looking down at Vegeta with a placid visage. _How in the hells is he not freaking out over this?_

“It won’t do any good to just wish for her body!”

“You get three wishes. Wish for the restoration of the body, and then the soul.”

Vegeta stared at Scargo incredulously, no one had told him that he had _three fucking wishes._

“Then wish for her body!” He replied, his stomach turning over in knots as the Namekian relayed the kings wish in the native tongue. The dragon replied, and a glowing tangle of golden dust appeared before Vegeta. His eyes widened as the particles took the form of a woman, and soon the form took flesh. The person that he loved lay before him, covered in what looked like golden petals. _Gods, it's_ _Bulma.  
_

He crawled over to her as the petals faded, each becoming part of a simple fabric shift; he reached down to her form with a shaking, gloved hand. It reminded him of the moment that he had found her dead in her flat, her  body limp, her face turned away from him- but this time it just felt _right_. He swallowed hard, taking her face in both hands and resting his lips on her forehead, breathing in her scent, remembering everything. Remembering the first day they had met in the library, recalling their uninhibited lovemaking all before he went and fell in love with her, confessing it to her awkwardly on the balcony outside of his chambers. He remembered her gentle hands on his as he lay shaking, the pain wracking his body while healing medicine coursed through his veins.

“Now wish for her resurrection.” Vegeta turned to Scargo, his heart hammering in his chest. This was the moment of truth.

-

Bulma sat on her balcony, watching the brilliant sunset over the fields of multicolored flowers surrounding the compound. It was just as her home was on earth, but instead of being in the bustling city, it was in a veritable paradise- clean air, silence (aside from the racket often pouring out of her father’s lab), and her beloved childhood cat was with her once again. Mr. Fluff sat on her lap as she read a book in the warm afternoon breeze, enjoying a cup of coffee when she was interrupted by a tapping at her door.

“Come in.” She called without looking up.

“Bulma dear, you have a guest.” Her mother, Panchy, said to her in a sweet, singsong voice. Bulma looked up, pulling her hair back and securing it in a low ponytail before setting the book down and putting Mr. Fluff on the tile. The cat meowed in protest.

“What, a visitor? I wasn’t expecting anyone.” She responded, following her mother from the balcony and through her room.

“Well, this man came to call on you, he said that you were being summoned.”

“Summoned? By who? Surely we don’t have jury duty in the afterlife!” She joked, trailing her mother down the stairs in puzzlement.

“Oh, you silly girl, no! He’s a little blue man from the bureau!”

“What? Why would a man from the bureau be here to summon me?” Bulma answered, her stomach doing an involuntary flip flop, her mind racing as to why the Otherworld Bureau would be summoning her.

“I couldn’t tell you, but he seemed to be in good spirits.” Panchy answered, leading Bulma into the living room where a slight blue skinned man sporting a cropped moustache and crisp dress clothes sat, chatting with Dr. Briefs who was smoking a pipe in his recliner. Panchy made her way into the kitchen, leaving Bulma to greet the stranger a nervous wave. He stood up to greet her, shaking her hand affably.

“Ms. Bulma Briefs, I’m here to tell you that you are being summoned back to life!” He said pleasantly, causing Bulma’s mouth to drop in shock.

“Vegeta!” She exclaimed, throwing her free hand up to her open mouth. _Back to life? Back to life!_

“Well I can’t tell for sure who is summoning you, but the Namekian dragon has been called into duty.”

“Namekian? Scargo is a Namekian.” She breathed, her mind spinning as her mother brought a tray of freshly poured lemonade into the room. Bulma felt as if she would faint, never believing that she would see Vegeta again- not even in the afterlife. He hadn’t led an exactly wholesome existence, so she never expected to see him on this side of paradise; a fact that kept her awake most nights.

“Bulma, dear, drink this, you look like you’re ready to fall over.” Panchy chirruped, handing Bulma a glass before cheerfully passing out the rest to the others. Bulma fell into a seat, taking a long swig of the sweet and sour beverage without truly tasting it. Emotions were coursing through her mind, and her heart filled with hope and longing. _Vegeta. Was she going to be reunited with her lover once again?_

 _“_ Will you accept or decline this summoning?” The visitor finally asked, taking a polite sip from his glass, “I hate to be pushy, but it’s best to make a decision quickly, as these dragons are not known for their patience.”

“Yes, yes I want to return! But did you say dragon? Were dragon balls used?” She asked, the nostalgic thrill of her orb gathering quest making her heart skip. _Scargo never told me they had dragon balls!_

“Yes, the Namekian dragon balls were used. But you must know this, Bulma, if you decide to return to the living world you won’t remember any of your time in Otherworld. And you won’t be able to come back until death.”

_Damn._

“So, I would lose my mom and dad all over again.” Bulma sighed, her joy taking a backseat as she looked up from her glass and at her parents. Panchy took a seat on the arm of her husband’s recliner, and both smiled back at her.

“Bulma, honey, we can wait for you. You have so much life left to live.” Dr. Briefs said, blowing a smoke ring into the air as her mother beamed.

“Oh yes sweetie, you go back to that man you told us all about! And make us some royal grandbabies!” Panchy tittered, and Bulma grinned, biting her lip.

“Well mom, I don’t even know if our biology is compatible enough to reproduce, but…” Bulma trailed, remembering the joy that she felt when she was reunited with her parents once again. She had cherished their time together in Otherworld, but she also knew that her life was far from being over. Although it pained her to part with them, the time would come when she would see them again. She needed to live her life, and make it back to her king. _Her love._

“Alright. I’ve made my decision. I’m going back!” Bulma exclaimed, a bittersweet joy growing once again as she stood from her chair.

“Alright, wonderful! Now we really need to go.” The guest announced, staring at his watch worriedly. Bulma nodded at him, bending down to pick up Mr. Fluff, tears forming in her eyes as she gave him one last squeeze. She turned to her parents, now standing beside of her.

“Mom, dad. I’m going to miss you so much.” She uttered, her voice hitching as the tears formed in her bright blue eyes. They took turns hugging her, each giving her a kiss on the cheek as they said their goodbyes.

“Honey, you’re going to be a queen, I just know it. Have a good life, baby.” Panchy inhaled, her own tears starting to fall as she held Bulma’s hands in her own. Mother and daughter gave sniffling laughs as they looked at one another, and Dr. Briefs spoke up.

“And you do well on your work, make the Briefs name universally famous.” He smiled, placing a hand on Bulma’s shoulder.

“I will daddy, I promise I will.” Bulma sniffled before turning to the slight blue man who was standing at the door.

“Time’s up Bulma, the dragon is waiting. Thank you for the lemonade Mrs. Briefs, it was lovely.” The man said, opening the door for Bulma, revealing a swirling silver portal. She turned around one last time, tears streaming down her face as she told her parents goodbye. She didn’t think twice before stepping through the shimmering gateway, which carried her soul back to the world of the living.

-

Vegeta’s heart pounded rapidly behind his plate. It felt like the wish was taking too long to fulfill, the dragon hadn’t responded in what felt like an eternity.

“Whats wrong?” He barked at the Namekian over the crackling energy and strengthening wind.

“She’s being summoned. It can take some time.”

“Oh, Bulma.” Vegeta breathed, taking his gloves off and cradling her head, stroking her long soft hair as he glanced down, watching, waiting for any signs of life. He nearly held his breath as the wind blew harder, the clouds above the phenomenon threatening rain.

The dragon answered.

Vegeta looked down desperately at the woman, praying to all of his gods for the first time in a long time, hoping against hope that she would open those eyes. _Please, just let her open her eyes._

And she did.

“Vegeta?” She murmured, her eyes opening slowly as she looked up at the man she loved. The man she had returned for.

“Bulma.” He replied quietly, fighting his own emotions and failing. His face softened and he gave her the rarest of smiles, pushing her hair back behind her ears gently and choking back tears. Bulma smiled back at him, reaching up and touching his face as the first patters of rain began to sprinkle on them.

They stared at one another in awe for a small eternity, and Vegeta pulled her up to his chest, embracing her as she threw her arms around his neck. The dragon spoke.

Bulma’s eyes widened in horror as she stared up at the gargantuan entity, and Vegeta grabbed her chin so she wouldn’t panic.

“Look at me. We used dragon balls to bring you back, that’s the dragon.” He explained, and she glanced at the ground where the seven glowing orbs still pulsed. Her heart rabbited still, but she vaguely understood what was happening.

“He says you need to make your third and final wish.” Scargo announced, and Bulma looked back to locate his voice.

“Scargo!” She beamed, still trying to make sense of the situation.

“Bulma, what do you want to wish for, friend?” Scargo asked her, giving her a gentle smile. She sat up weakly and grabbed Vegeta’s hand, and he stared at her with dark, captivated eyes. He was finally contented.

“Wish for whatever you want.”

“I can wish for anything?” She said to Vegeta, not fully grasping the situation. He nodded, and she grinned as the rain began to pour.

“I would want a tail like yours.” She laughed, tears welling up in her eyes, emotion overcoming her as she grasped the kings hand as tight as she could.

Without hesitation, Scargo spoke, and the dragon granted Bulma's wish.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this was going to be the last chapter before the epilogue, but I want to delve into a few more things before it gets wrapped up entirely. Expect one more (maybe short) chapter, and the end. Again, thank you all so much for reading!!


	23. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The king and his woman are reunited and return _Home_. Vegeta has the future on his mind.

 

Vegeta stared at her, confused and yet astounded, as intrigued by Bulma as he had been from the first day he had met her on the _Palaibra_. She hadn’t wished to become a Saiyan, _of course not_ , that would have betrayed her true self. Her human self.

In her dazed and slightly delirious state she had wished simply for a Saiyan _tail_. He knew that she had wanted one for many reasons, including a more profound connection with him- but he wondered if she had ever thought about the privilege of passing as a Saiyan would afford her… or what it could mean for their future.

Vegeta began to speak to her when she glanced up at him, her face a mask of confusion.

“What the hell…” Bulma trailed, her eyes widening as she felt a tickling at the bottom of her spine, a warmth that felt as if it were expanding, making her bones lengthen painlessly. She pushed herself from Vegeta and stood with haste, her heart galloping as she grabbed her back end and felt the base of a tail underneath the soaked shift. She wordlessly mouthed an ‘ _oh_ ’ before the dragon spoke, its voice booming through the sky and startling her.

All three stared up at the immense apparition, and Scargo replied to it in Namekian, bowing his head respectfully. The dragon suddenly began to radiate with an overwhelming green glow, bolts of electricity sparking from its shuddering, ethereal form. It appeared to collapse in on itself in a brilliant flare of golden light, releasing an ear shattering boom as it descended, crackling and buzzing upon returning to the seven orbs in the grass.

They stared in awe as the dragon disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, the sky changing from eerie darkness to the deep green typical of planet Namek. The orbs vibrated and rose into the air, hovering above the three for a short moment, then suddenly turning to stone before shooting off into seven different directions.

The departure of the dragon and the wishing orbs took mere seconds, leaving Bulma feeling as if she was having a bizarre fever dream. She shook her head after a moment of comprehension, glancing back at Vegeta and her Namekian friend. She bit her tongue and tasted blood, leaving her with a sharp pain which served as certain reassurance that this was no dream.

“I thought I was dreaming…This is, _real_?” She questioned in subdued astonishment, staring at Vegeta with unintended comical dismay. He sat back in the grass and laughed at her, and she exhaled, looking back at the end of the brown furred appendage sticking out from the bottom of her shift.

“It’s real, all of it.” Scargo assured as he approached from several yards away, and Bulma sat beside of the king, looking over at him in wonder.

“Did I die?” She asked, grabbing the end of her sensitive tail and stroking the wet fur gingerly. Vegeta averted his eyes from her gaze, staring down at his boots solemnly.

“Yes.” The king replied, still leaning back on his arms. She looked down at the grass, pulling some of the blades absentmindedly while trying to process the situation. It came back to her in a blur- the attack on the city, the explosions, hitting the wall… _dying_.

She took a deep breath, staring ahead blankly before blinking back emotional tears.

“Well, I’m glad you brought me back.” She whispered, showing Vegeta a slight smile as he nodded, his own mind a whirlwind of emotion that he was not at all used to, nor was he comfortable with. While his awareness was free from the suffocating anxiety of not knowing whether Bulma would return, it was replaced by another rumination. He felt the urge to leave; the need to get the fuck off of Namek and return home from his odyssey with the most precious of prizes.  

“We should go soon.” He stated flatly. He stood up, and Bulma nodded at him with a grin, her watery blue eyes sparkling. _Alive_.

Vegeta watched her carefully as she stood to embrace him. He was suddenly struck with the thought that when she placed her hands on his body, he would awaken, alone, miserable and lost once more, clutching ashes in the dark. He took a deep breath, knowing that was foolish, and standing stoically when her hands grazed over his armor.

_She remained._

The Saiyan exhaled deeply as Bulma laid her head on his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing as tightly as her frail human arms were capable of. He put his face in her wet hair and reciprocated slowly, feeling her form under his gloves- _living, breathing, brilliance_. She leaned into his ear and whispered.

“Let’s go home.” 

-

The Saiyan ship drifted above the green marble that was Namek, coasting slowly as Vegeta flipped switches and shifted gears, readying the vessel for deep space cruising. He set the auto pilot to navigate to the planet of his namesake. _To Home_.

He was glad that the farewells had proven short, _blessedly_ short, and Vegeta had given his promise that the Namekians would always have an ally in the Saiyans. Bulma had given the tall green alien a gods damned _hug_ \- He hadn’t liked it, the hug- but it was chaste, and he begrudgingly accepted it. Besides, Scargo had helped him, if only for the sake of Bulma. And really, she was all that mattered anyway.

The king had finished setting the coordinates when he heard the soft padding of footsteps approaching from behind, he slowly swiveled the chair around to observe her as she neared. She stood on the platform below him, staring upwards with wet hair and a damp shift. He could see her pert nipples peeking through the white fabric, and he swallowed. _Damn._

Wordlessly, she grabbed the bottom hem of the dress and pulled it up, lifting it over her head and letting it fall to the floor in a drenched heap. She was completely nude, and she gave him a slight, coy smile as she put her hands on her hips. He watched her with dark eyes as she turned, giving her perfect ass a playful shake and showing off her new Saiyan tail.

He had seen many things in his universal travels, but she was the most beautiful creature that he had ever laid eyes on. By far _._ _No fucking contest._

“Do you like it?” She crooned, looking over her shoulder at him with sparkling, wanton eyes. He nodded silently, grinding his back teeth as his desire for her coursed through his body, consuming him like fire and leaving him with only lust. He needed her, he _needed_ to communicate with her in ways that he was never able to until now- now that she had a Saiyan tail.

“I don’t know how to use it yet.” She said, turning around and walking up to him slowly, her breasts giving the slightest bounce as she stepped up the platform.  

“I can teach you.” He growled low, sitting back in the chair and watching her raptly as she approached. He had pined for her for what seemed like ages, how he had longed to feel her skin against his- to drag his unworthy hands down her creamy white curves and become one with her once again.

And soon, she would grant his wish.

-

She lay back in the pilot’s chair, her arms laced behind the headrest as Vegeta hovered over her, his elbows propping him up and his skin pressed against hers in a stark contrast, porcelain and bronze. He kissed her, desperately and deeply, like he was a man dying of thirst and she was the crystal water that he just couldn’t get enough of.

One hand wove through her hair as he kissed her, and his heart hammered with hers as she ran her cold, delicate hands over the scarred expanse of his back. He slid his free hand down her body, causing her to thrill when his fingers danced over her clit, kneading it softly before he trailed just a bit lower, teasing her borderline with one rough finger. Bulma breathed onto his neck as he slowly pressed two fingers into her, and began to run them expertly over the little grooved area that made her come undone. She bucked into his hand as he pressed his fingers into her, occasionally pulling them out and messaging her swollen bud with wet, warm fingers that caused her to grab at the nape of his hair and mewl uncontrollably below him.

She panted, craving more than his fingers, and she pulled back from him as he slowed his pace, waiting for her cue. She took his jawline in her hands while he stared at her, waiting with rapt, dark eyes.

“Ve ein aye, Vegeta. (I need you, Vegeta.)” She whispered, running her fingers through the thick shock of his mane, biting her lip seductively as she locked eyes with the Saiyan. Vegeta shook his head slowly in amazement, marveling at the woman below him; to think he could have went the rest of his life without her; it wouldn't have been a life worth living. The Saiyan removed his fingers and nuzzled into the folds of her hair, inhaling her natural aroma, sweet and purely hers; unmarred by shampoo or perfumes, and as intoxicating as the strongest alcohol.

He growled quietly, low in his throat as he pushed his erection against her, still covered by the tight fabric of his pants.

“Tai keita, Ve-ka librai fa irga aye pahg ah Saiyan. (My woman, I’m going to take you like a Saiyan.)" He whispered in her ear, his hot breath sending chills of anticipation down her spine, and she exhaled.

Tai vegea, Ve wen iit oit cadst. (My king, I beg for the pleasure.)”

The king looked down at his woman, the dim light casting deep shadows on his face as she watched him with glittering, half lidded eyes. He freed his erection easily, grasping it by the base as she licked her lips, her heart thumping in her chest in anticipation as he ran his cock over her wetness. Her body filled with an electric excitement and she breathed a slight gasp when he teased her clit for a short time, finally pushing himself through her borderline, slowly, _gently_ , relishing the moment.

They moaned together when he lost himself fully in her, each savoring one another’s warmth and pressure, sending jolts of pleasure mutually through their cores as he began to thrust. Bulma whimpered as she lifted her feet to the armrests, and he leaned into the curve of her neck, gently biting her flesh as she breathed into his hair.

He ran his hands behind her head as he placed his lips near her ear, breathing deeply and letting out the slightest of moans as he picked up the pace. The sensation of his bucking and panting drove Bulma to blind ecstasy, and her tail involuntarily curled around his leg. He grinned into her neck, fascinated with her reaction as she drew her fingernails down his arms, mewling desperately with each thrust. He snaked his tail up, threading it into her own and releasing hers from his leg. 

He intertwined his tail around hers, causing her breath to hitch at the sensation of her new appendage being tangled with his, sending intense ecstasy from the tip of her tail to her core. This was the intimacy she had craved, the connection she had been missing…and it was more pleasurable then she could have _ever_ imagined _._ She closed her eyes tightly and grasped his solid shoulders, panting his name as he pounded into her.

He was surprised by the thrill of a pleasure he hadn’t partaken in since meeting her, _lacing tails_ \- an act he would have never given a second thought to in the past. He had nearly forgotten what it had felt like to pair in such a way, _a truly Saiyan way_ , and even his desensitized tail gave him satisfaction as hers tightened around his.

“Ha ek fen aye taekka ek leat xé? (Is it how you thought it would be?)” He asked her breathily, his heart racing as she moaned beneath him, her body on fire with the impending rapture of her climax. She parted her thick lashes, nodding up at him and squeezing her walls tightly around him as her body neared release.

“Ek’é sa céil gatcha. Ve aline aye, tai vegea. (It’s so much more. I love you, my king.)” She whimpered, her form trembling as her climax spilled over, sending waves of intense pleasure racing through her entire body in an intense flash.

Vegeta tightened his tail around hers, his own climax building as sweat dripped from his face onto her chest. She exhaled and dropped her arms; her teal hair fanned out on the headrest, her face flushed from pleasure and her lips bee stung from their kisses. The woman was like a dream. She was alive, and she was _his again_.

The king leaned down with his eyes shut tightly, pressing his forehead to Bulma’s and gripping handfuls of her hair as he came into her with a low moan. His body tensed over hers as the hazy pleasure of his ecstasy took hold, spilling into her as she reached up to kiss his lips gently, her hands tangled in his hair as he panted. He had gripped the edges of the seat hard enough so that they cracked on either side of the woman’s head, but he loosened his hold as the waves dissipated. It was the first climax he had experienced since they had enjoyed each other among the bubbles, what felt like ages ago.

The king opened his eyes slightly to meet her brilliant blue gaze.

“Ve aline aye fek, keita. (I love you too, woman.)” He whispered, still breathing heavily as he ran one hand through her silky hair. She smiled at him, and he watched her a moment before averting his gaze.

It was the second time he had told her that he loved her. Never in his life had he expected to love anyone- the word had been foreign and strange and frankly _embarrassing_. It was something that weaker Saiyans claimed, and a feeling that aliens blathered on and _on_ about in their poetry and songs. But regardless of his lifelong aversion to the emotion, he felt it fully for the woman he had built a relationship with, the woman he had mourned for after her death and rejoiced at her resurrection- the woman he would make his queen. He loved her, truly, truly, _truly_. 

-

Vegeta’s return to the palace had been met with shocked stares and plenty of gossip, most of which had died down in the weeks following the return of the king and a familiar teal haired woman. Many had said that she was the one that had supposedly died- although that was unlikely, as this one had a tail and was certainly alive. Many swore that he had a woman created in a lab for him that looked like his lost love- but with Saiyan genes. Others had said she was a product of dark magic. Most simply supposed he had found a very exotic Saiyan woman, maybe from the far west where blueish hair and eyes weren’t _so_ _uncommon_ \- however, it _was_ bizarre that she looked remarkably like the alien woman that had died over a month before. 

Regardless, his people were relatively content with his choice. At least this time, the woman _was_ a Saiyan.

-

The king sat at his desk, rubbing his face and yawning as he sifted through paperwork, his tail twitching in agitation as the minutes passed. He looked out the windows, narrowing his eyes at the darkening sky and tapped his pen against a document of alliance that required his physical signature. He read through the clauses, carefully analyzing each part when his newly reconstructed chamber door opened quietly.

“Bulma?” He inquired without looking up.

“No.” _Celera. Gods damn it all._

“I’m not taking visitors,” He said flatly, still staring at the document and grinding his teeth irritably as she entered the room, “How the fuck did you get in here?”

“Nappa.” She replied frankly, taking a seat on the plush, navy blue seating in the conversation area.

“I told you I never wanted to see you in my chamber again.” Vegeta growled, setting the pen down and standing. He made his way to the edge of the conversation area and stood glaring over her, his arms crossed guardedly as Celera stared at her hands.

“I know.”

“Then why the fuck are you here?”

“I’ve came to… to apologize.” Celera took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying, and failing to keep her composure. She had been planning to visit her son since his return with the alien woman, but she had known that she would not be met with kindness. She realized fully that she didn’t deserve his understanding or forgiveness, nor would she get either from Vegeta.

“Are you serious? Apologize!? You wanted to kill Bulma, I have no reason to accept your apologies, I have no reason to ever talk to you again.” Vegeta snarled, digging his fingertips into the fabric of his shirt in a fiery anger. He was fuming, ready to pick the woman up and throw her out himself.

“I was…I was wrong, Rubra. I… I know there’s nothing I can do to make things better. But, I’m sorry.” The queen dowager wiped a tear from her cheek, still not meeting her son’s glare. Her throat was tight, her emotion spilling over- and she truly regretted the evil things that she had planned for her son and his alien lover. Vegeta would have committed matricide if he had really known the truth- the truth of how she wanted to wish for the king to turn on the alien woman _and…_

“Get out.” Vegeta murmured, interrupting Celera’s train of thought. The king glared at the dark wood floor, his anger flooding his senses, making him want to explode with pent up energy. Celera knew his limits and obeyed him, standing silently, she walked to the door with her tail wrapped tightly around her thin waist. When she reached the exit, she turned, her eyes puffy and filled with brimming tears.

“I pray to the goddess that Bulma makes a strong queen, and gives you robust children. I pray you two enjoy your lives together, always. _I mean it_.” Celera admitted in a quavering voice before exiting the chamber as silently as she entered. She _had_ meant it, even if she would never have any love for the alien woman. She would accept Bulma, if only for the sake of her son.

Vegeta flicked his tail, turning back to his documents as his jaw twitched. He closed his eyes and exhaled, trying to subdue his rage and going over his mother’s words carefully. She was not one to speak without meaning what she said, but after her betrayal of his trust he could no longer fully believe her. But something… _something_ about her apology and well wishes rang genuine, and he could at least live with that.

-

Vegeta wore all black from head to toe, including a heavy pendent of of onyx on dark _maleatite_ , with matching jewelry on his thumb and tail. His tailored formal coat stopped mid-thigh, and was adorned with crossed belts at the waist; a single shoulder capelet of plush, black fur covered the upper right half of his torso. He felt like an idiot. _Fucking fashion_ , how it changed like the wind, and how he played along like a damn fool. If it had been up to him he would just wear his armor or at least something more simple, _but_ , being the damn king, he had to keep up appearances. Especially at a royal wedding. 

The king glared at the gathering below, his arms crossed as the guests laughed, drank and prattled; enjoying the atmosphere of the festivities in the courtyard. Music was playing, warriors were fighting on a small stage, and a large fire blazed within an intricate brazier. It was a traditional conclusion to a Saiyan wedding, and the perfect time for him to slip away to contemplate. He had too much on his mind to deal with this shit, and he surely couldn’t think with all these fucking people around.

His sister, the princess Cella, had married Kakarot less than an hour prior, and had already been escorted to the bedding. _A true travesty_ … but his mind had been preoccupied with other, more important matters. He curled his lip and took a long swig of wine, turning the glass up and finishing the dry red in moments, exhaling as he placed the crystal down unsteadily. The wine went straight to his head as usual, making his face warm and his head bleary, but it still didn’t take the edge off his anxiety. _What the fuck is wrong with me? For the love of the gods…_

He sighed, leaning on the stone banister when he heard footsteps approaching from the stairwell. _She found me_. Vegeta looked over his shoulder as Bulma appeared from behind a column, looking like an ethereal goddess in her jewels and shimmering makeup.

Her dress was navy blue, intricately beaded and tailored to fit her like a glove. Her hair had been braided back and accented with rose gold threaded ribbon, a decoration she also wore woven around her tail. The jewelry had been made for her in the past week, multiple delicate chains of rose gold with brilliant sapphires of varying sizes, accented with bright white diamonds throughout. He turned around to face her, and she smiled at him, her jewels and the beads on her dress glittering in the early spring sunlight.  

He swallowed as she leaned on the banister beside of him, staring down at the people below with her head propped up on one hand.

“The wedding was beautiful.” She said distractedly, swaying her tail as he folded his arms on the railing, watching her intently. _Fuck the wedding,_ she _was beautiful._

“It was…a wedding. Just like every other ridiculous wedding.” He murmured, watching loose strands of her vivid hair sway in the tired wind. She grinned, still looking down at the bustling afterparty.

“It’s the first Saiyan wedding I’ve been to, it was very nice.”

“They are short, at least.”

“Oh, come on, weddings are joyous occasions! Especially royal weddings. But _damn_. I can’t imagine how much it cost…”

“Too _fucking_ much. It’s a waste of money if you ask me.”

“You _would_ say that.” Bulma sighed.

"Did you talk to Tarble about the capsules?"

"Yes I did, mass production starts in two months." Bulma beamed, and Vegeta nodded his head.

"Good."

"But..." Bulma trailed, narrowing her eyes and glaring at Vegeta, poking him in the arm playfully.

“ _Tch_. What?”

“You left me by myself- which means I could have been pounced on by your mother, you know.”

He rolled his eyes. _His damn mother_. Bulma needn’t have worried about her, she had left soon after the ceremony. She rarely dallied about anymore.

“I was tired of listening to chatter.”

“Mmhmm. Just trying to get away from _me_.”

“Never.” He responded quietly, turning away from her and fidgeting with the empty wine glass. His heart beat harder than he wanted it to, and in that moment, he was very glad that she didn’t have acute Saiyan hearing. Regardless though, she knew something was amiss.

“What’s wrong Vegeta?” Bulma raised an eyebrow, wrapping her tail around his as he looked down at the courtyard disinterestedly.

 “Well, my sister, who carries the ancient and royal blood of Vegeta, has married a godsdamned moron, and they WILL procreate…”

“That’s not what’s really bothering you.” Bulma interrupted, meeting his dark eyes and reaching out for his jawline with one hand. He reluctantly allowed her fingers to run over his skin, and she turned his head gently to face her. He looked at her a few moments before turning away, anxious to be away from the courtyard, anxious for privacy, anxious to be alone with her.

“We should go.” He murmured, and her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected to leave so soon.

“What, already? The reception has just…”

“Let’s leave, now.”

“What, _ah_ , where?” Bulma gasped as Vegeta suddenly picked her up, “I haven’t even got to have a second drink!”

“You’ll be fine. We’ll drink later.” He murmured, holding her close to his chest as he took off from the balcony in a flash of flaring gold energy.

-

The sun peeked through the indigo foliage above, casting flickering light in the shadow of the largest _Heider_ tree in the palace gardens. Vegeta slowly lowered the woman to the ground, observing that her hair looked as if it were imbued with turquoise fire when the flickering beams of light danced off her tresses. When her feet touched the ground, she let go of him, watching the king closely as he leaned against the gnarled, bone colored trunk. He looked up at the red petals falling, catching one absentmindedly and crushing it in his dark gloves while she ran her hands over the exposed roots, jutting up from the earth.

Bulma was curious as to why he had brought her to this place, but kept her mouth shut even though she had many questions- _so many questions_. She hadn’t wanted to leave the party, but she could sense that his mind was troubled, and that he likely had something profound to talk about.

 “As a child, I used to play here, _spar_ here… I sparred with my brother...” Vegeta hesitated awkwardly, his thoughts more with the present than with the past. He felt like an idiot talking about it, but he wanted her to know the history of this particular spot in the garden before he proceeded. He grit his teeth, averting his eyes from her questioning blue gaze.

“I often ended up driving Tarble into the pond, we would fight until we nearly drowned sometimes. He was never a strong fighter though, but…but I spent a lot of time in this place before I was taken away.”

Bulma nodded at him, still trying to piece together the situation.

“When I...I had my most difficult moments, I would often come back to this place, in my mind. I could clearly remember climbing the tree in the heat of summer, jumping off of it and learning to use my energy to take flight. My mother would watch us catch fish, she would tell my brother and I stories of great Saiyans in the past, of my father…”

He turned to her with crossed arms, sweat beading on his brow despite the cool breeze. Bulma stood silently in front of him, her eyes blank and wide and beautiful. Red petals fell like bloodstained snow around her form, landing in her hair as she swayed her tail slowly. The sun filtered through the canopy and surrounded her like a painting, and he knew for as long as he lived he would never forget her in this exact moment.

Bulma watched him as he turned, the petals bright red against the darkness of his form, and the world felt like it was moving in slow motion. It suddenly dawned on her what he had brought her out here for, and she swallowed hard as he approached her sheepishly. If the situation wasn’t so serious she would have laughed- the king of the mighty Saiyans, a destroyer of billions and a savior of his people, the god of war dressed so handsomely in solid black- was blushing like a teenager after his first kiss. She knew that she would never forget him as he was now, and gave him a fond, slight smile as he reached for her arms.

“I just… I wanted you to know.” Vegeta murmured, feeling anxious and stupid. Bulma nodded slowly as his tail snaked around hers, and she felt as if the petals around her were falling in slow motion. He held her wrists gently, his thumbs in her palms as he took a deep breath _._ Everything that he had said until now had been chatter, stalling banter leading to one important question. He leaned into her neck, and whispered into her ear, his warm breath making her skin tingle excitedly.

“Bulma, will you be my queen?”

Bulma felt as if her heart had stopped, her eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly as she exhaled. She leaned back, and met his gaze, tears beginning to manifest against her will as she gripped his gloved thumbs. She didn’t have to think twice about her answer.

“Yes. _Yes_.” She breathed, tears sliding down her porcelain cheeks as she smiled, and he kissed her deeply as the red petals swirled around them under the indigo canopy.

 


	24. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

Vegeta caught his breath as Bulma was led out onto the dais by Yama and his sister. She was blindfolded, and they held her hands on either side, leading her out gracefully to the king of all Saiyans. He stood center stage, dressed in full royal armor and jewels, his arms crossed behind his back and his cape swaying languidly in the early summer breeze. He swallowed, tuning out the entire world and focusing only on her.

She was wearing an intricately decorated satin black dress, the front slit into a narrow V of sheer lacy material between her breasts. She wore a collar of golden filigree and rubies around her slender neck, a matching bracelet on her wrist. Her hair had been draped over her left shoulder, braided loosely and laced with gold ribbon, freckled with rubies throughout.

The setting sun cast a warm, amber light over her and he exhaled, staring at the most beautiful woman in all the worlds. There was simply no other more perfect than she.

Yama and Cella stopped in front of the king, bowing to him with smiles and releasing the bride’s hands so that she could lower them to her sides. The two bridesmaids kissed Bulma’s cheeks, stepping behind her and loosening the dark fabric which covered her eyes before they walked back off the short platform. The satin fabric fell to the stone floor of the dais, and Bulma stared wide eyed at her surroundings, and her king.

He was stunning in his armor, his bronze skin glowing as the red sun fell behind them. The beams of dying light streamed through the pillars surrounding the dais and cast long bars of shadow over the round stone platform. The entire scene felt surreal, from the lanterns strung up in the indigo Heider trees, to the silent crowd that watched the ceremony from below; reality washed away, and she had to bite her lip to bring herself back into the moment.

Bulma gave Vegeta a subdued smile as he swallowed, reaching his right hand out out for her left, grasping it as the aged priest hobbled up between them. The hooded old Saiyan carried a black leather ribbon in his gnarled hands, and nodded to the couple as he approached. Without a word, he began lacing their hands together tightly, overlapping the leather and tying it off firmly.

Bulma glanced up from her bound hand to her king, and he locked eyes with her. The world around them felt as if it were moving in slow motion, and they clasped one another’s hands tightly. This was the moment they had been waiting for.

“We gather on this day to celebrate a sacred union, between our king and his chosen mate. Today they will be bound together as one, to fight for one another, to carry one another in times of turmoil, and to lead one another other forward in life, as well as the afterlife.”

The priest went on to chant in an ancient Saiyan dialect, and Vegeta nodded at his bride. She smiled when he twined his tail around her own tightly. It felt awkward to show such intimacy in front of the crowd of onlookers, but Vegeta ignored his initial embarrassment, focusing only on his woman. She was becoming a queen in front of his eyes, and he wouldn’t let his nerves ruin the moment.

Bulma’s heart beat rapidly as the priest continued, and the realization that, she, an alien pleb, was becoming the queen of all Saiyans fully dawned on her in that moment. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“We now recognize this twining as their bond, a most revered union of a king and his queen. We pray to our goddess to grant them health and fertility, and to our father Onin to grant them strength, always. Please your highness, pull close your bride, your new queen.”

Bulma’s eyes brimmed with tears of elation, and Vegeta grabbed her lower back with his free hand, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. She gripped his arm tightly, and a raucous burst of cheers rang out as the blushing king kissed his new queen. _His new wife, his Bulma._

-

Vegeta carried the woman through the threshold of the bedding chamber, slamming the door against the loud music and the clamor of the crowd outside. He sighed, relieved to escape to the cool dark room and away from the noise, finally alone with his bride.

Bulma watched him as he used a small amount of energy to burn the leather covering his skin, freeing their hands from the bond and instantly wrapping his arms around her in a silent embrace. The new bride reciprocated gladly, closing her eyes as she laid her head on his armor, and he breathed silently into her hair. The couple savored their newfound respite, holding on to eachother for several minutes.

Vegeta sighed into the crook of her neck, kissing it gently before picking her up and placing her on the oversized bed. He watched her silently, in awe of her beauty, and she placed her forehead against his.

“How does it feel.” She whispered, and he blinked as if the question was completely outlandish.

“It feels like a I have a queen?”

“Is that so?” She smiled, kissing his forehead before sitting back on her arms, watching him as he stared at his hands.

“You…looked nice today.” He murmured, and she threw her head back and laughed. He knitted his brows together and shook his head slowly. _Insolent woman._

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever told me that.”

“Yeah, well.” He answered, side eyeing her and showing the slightest of grins. It may have been the first time he had said it, but it certainly wasn’t the first time he had ever thought it.

“So, what now? Time to consummate our marriage?”She winked and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"We'll get to that soon enough, keita." Vegeta said while reaching into his pocket and removing something small, making sure not to reveal it to her. He narrowed his eyes at her as she tried to peek.

"What is that?"

He grabbed her left hand, the one she had indicated to him in the past that was the ‘ _ring hand_ ’, or something to that effect…

You told me that the humans gave each other rings to symbolize their bond with one another.” He hesitated, feeling like a sentimental fool, revealing the ring before placing it in her open palm; she looked at it in shocked silence. He hadn’t done it right, and he hadn’t done it with grace- but the fact that he had remembered what she had told him many, _many_ months before, simply astounded her. She swallowed hard as tears formed in her eyes.

“I wasn’t…sure which finger to put it on. It probably won’t fit you.” He uttered, and tears streamed down her face when she slipped it over her left ring finger. It was too big, but she didn’t care. He had put so much thought into the gift, and she loved it dearly. She loved him.

“It’s beautiful.” She stammered, wiping her tears away and watching the blue diamond shimmer in the dim light. He watched her cautiously, still unable to fully understand her bizarre emotions, and she looked up at him, grabbing the sides of his face to his surprise.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know.” She whispered, kissing him lightly before wrapping her arms around his neck. He stared ahead in confusion, slowly embracing her as she squeezed him as hard as her little arms could manage. He didn’t respond to her declaration of love, but she knew that he didn’t have to. He had always shown her his love through actions, not words.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it friends, the end of first fanfiction I’ve ever written, and probably the longest that I'll ever write as well. It’s been very fun, sometimes frustrating and a true learning experience. Hopefully my work will continue to get better, and that I won’t have to spend 12 hours editing 22 chapters ever again. (It's been updated, if anyone is interested in reading a more coherent version of this story, lol)
> 
> Thanks SO much to everyone who stuck with Reign over the past year, you all are amazing! I hope that the ending doesn’t disappoint, and I hope to see you next time- with Indigo, and a follow up to Reign (starring Trunks).  
> Happy holidays friends, and have a wonderful New Year.


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